


I meet you at the darkest time

by goldlining



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Also fuck donald trump, Angst, Beefy Bucky, Beefy Steve, Bucky Barnes is Hot, Dildos, Fluff and Angst, HYDRA sucks, Jealous!Steve, Lush Cosmetics, Multi, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Past Torture, Possessive Steve Rogers, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Self Care, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Smut, Steve's still cap though, Stripper Bucky Barnes, Vibrators, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, eventually it gets to steve and bucky sleeping with each other okay??, fuck hydra, meme lord Steve, post it notes, post serum steve rogers, sass barnes, steve is really into memes ok don't judge him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 28,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldlining/pseuds/goldlining
Summary: Bucky works as a part time stripper to pay for his rent and other needs. Steve goes to a strip club after much (no) persuasion. Lots of angst, fluff and smut.





	1. How dark does it really get? (Only a little)

**Author's Note:**

> When this fic idea appeared in my brain, i did not know there would be this much smut. wow.

Loud muffled music filtered through the walls to where Bucky was getting ready for his turn to dance. He stared at his perfected winged eyeliner and long luscious lashes through the mirror. He looked _good_.

Compared to the other strippers, he was the odd one out. The only male here with shoulder length hair. The only one here who doesn’t have to take a shot before going on stage. (It doesn’t help him anyway) The only one here with a metal arm. And that’s okay, you’d be surprised at how hot it gets people, and how much more cash it earns Bucky.

Bucky liked changing things up – yesterday, he went with the flower theme. (his personal favorite, he got to prance around with flowers in his hair!!!!!!) Today, he was The Soldier (the crowd’s favorite, everyone likes a good looking man in uniform.)

He heard the music change to an erotic piece with lots of violins and pianos. Strange, but surprisingly hot. Bucky stood up without making a sound, then made sure his half bunned up hair was in place, tucked his translucent white shirt properly into his army cargo pants, and made sure his boots were laced up properly. After a quick stretch, he headed towards the side of the stage, and waited for his turn.

-

Steve loved those ugly bright fluorescent lights that exists in the future. Sure, it gives him a big fucking headache but it proves how much everything has improved. He remembered when he used to accompany his mom to the grocery store (they have supermarkets now and it has _everything_ ), how there were only two aisles of fruit to choose from and that was it. Now it was big and there are metal contraptions called trolleys that even have special seats for babies!

Steve was choosing out big shiny ripe apples when he heard a frail but somewhat demanding voice go, “Help me get that apple in the back would ya?”

He turned to see an old lady stretching to get the fruit she had chosen, her veiny fingers shaking with effort. “Woah, woah, ma’am, I’ll help you,” Steve rushed to hold the old lady to set her steadily back on her feet before quickly grabbing the apple she wanted. The old lady thanked him with a grateful smile.

He smiled his ‘aw shucks’ smile (Sam’s words) and watched the old lady slowly turn her trolley in the direction  she was planning on going, that was, until she turned back around with a cheeky smile on her face.

“Ya single, hun? My niece is a single pringle and a good man like you is hard to find.”

Well, that sure dampened Steve’s mood. “No, ma’am, I’m with someone. Sorry about that.” Steve gave a self deprecating smile. Bucky’s been dead for years, but he just couldn’t let it go.

The last time they saw each other, they were still boyfriends thank you very much. Nobody ended nothing. Steve and Bucky were still SteveandBucky goddammit. Sam had told him that his way of thinking was very very wrong, but they were _soulmates_. You don’t break something like that so easily.

He promised he would see a doctor for it, when he was ready for it, sure. But not when he just came out from the ice. (Steve’s been out for five years.)

The old lady’s mouth twisted in disappointment and she walked away, leaving Steve to continue shopping, accompanied by memories of Bucky and his smile that was brighter than the sun.

-

A gun shot rang out, followed by utter silence, all movement in the club stopped.

They knew this one.

They knew this was The Soldier routine.

 Bucky slowly walked to the centre of the stage in the pitch darkness. (Well, not to him, he had better night vision than the average person.) He wasn’t scared of guns, after all, he was always the one behind it, always the one in control (even though he wasn’t, not really).

He shook his head slightly, feeling strands of hair fall out of his bun. It was no use remembering his morbid past. Yes, his _past_. He escaped from HYDRA, he doesn’t kill people anymore. Bucky was on the mend, he’s finding himself again, but he couldn’t just sit in his apartment and think about life could he? He needed money for rent, food and other bullshit stuff he liked to buy on impulse.

It was his way of coping. Buying stuff. He had the control, to choose if he wanted it or not, to choose if he liked it or not, to decide if it would fit in the aesthetic of his apartment. It always does.

The stage brightened as a single spotlight shone on him, and people went _crazy._ He hadn’t even done anything yet and dollar bills were already raining down on stage. He smirked, driving the crowd even wilder. He knew he was hot.

Bucky slowly lifted his head and a strong bass reverberated throughout the room. He felt it in his dick. He walked his ‘murder strut’, yes he named it himself, then tore his shirt to shreds. The hollers got louder and the money rained down faster.  Once he got his pants off, it would be a fucking shower-a storm of dollar bills.

He ran his hand down his stomach and against his crotch, pressing down, then bit his bottom lip and gave a sultry glance to a blonde dude in the crowd. Bucky thrusted his hips slowly, teasingly, and pushed a hand into his hair, his mouth matching the low moans that the audio provided.

 That was why this routine was so popular, it was almost like a live porno, minus the fucking or the masturbating.  The moans were his, actually, taken when he was masturbating. Good quality routine equals good money. He loved being a stripper.

Bucky knelt down and caressed someone’s  face, watching their dilated pupils, then pressed a kiss to their cheek, biting it cheekily as he moved away, grabbing the money in their hands in the process. He gave it a quick glance, hmmm, five dollar bills, not bad. He threw it on the stage and stalked to the dead centre of it.

He slipped out of his cargo pants and pushed it down to his knees. It was all about grace, the smoothness of his movements that gets everybody going.

 He then crawled to a dark haired man and stretched out his legs(he shaved) for him to undo Bucky’s shoelaces. The man did a quick job of it. Bucky leaned forward and muttered a quick “Thanks babe” before nipping his ears and crawling back to position, shaking his ass in the process. He worked hard on that ass, and those thighs. Man, it was hard to maintain but he loved them.

He shoved the pants and boots off and he was left on stage naked, except for the black lace panties he had on. He was hard and the outline of his cock was clear as day. He stalked towards an unsuspecting victim and shoved his ass in their face. He felt a hand slap his ass, and he let out a low whine. Fuck he needed release so bad.

A bigger hand grabbed his dick and he whipped around, grabbing the owner of that wandering hand. He leaned forward and threatened in a low growl, “Touch me there again and I’ll break both your hands and your feet, and oh, let’s not forget these fingers.” He gave a warning pull and the guy’s face crumpled in pain. Bucky hummed in satisfaction and walked to the other end of the stage.

People think they can touch. But just because he’s showing his body off doesn’t mean they get a free pass at touching him wherever. They should learn to take only what he was willing to give.

He sighed as he sat down and leaned back, one hand at the back giving him support, legs opened wide. He ran a hand over his panties, giving the places that ached some relief. He grabbed a calloused hand and guided it to his inner thighs, leading them to rub up and down as he moved his hand up and toyed with his nipples.

He quickly got up when it all felt a little too much. He walked in time to the thrumming bass towards the shiny pole at the front of the stage. He used the strength he had in his metal arm to pull himself up, then lowered his centre of gravity as he turned upside down and humped the pole.

He did a flip as he came down the pole, showing off his agility. Bucky then backed his ass up into the pole and allowed the pole to slide between his asscheeks. He moved his ass up, down, left  and right, reveling in the feel of cool metal pressed against his asshole, with his panties providing just the right amount of friction to feel good. After a minute of that, he faced his ass to the crowd and pulled the material of his underwear by the band, upwards, giving himself, in lack of a better term, a wedgie.

He then knelt down on the floor, face down ass up, and pulled apart his butt cheeks, and moved his hips around, giving the audience a false sense of excitement at the thought if seeing him so thoroughly, but he was still carefully covered by the material of his panties. He tried this many times at home, till his neck hurt from turning to look in the mirror to see if his asshole was on display. After what felt like a hundred hours, he succeeded.

He snatched up a bottle of oil from the side of the stage and poured slowly, making sure to cover every inch of his body, and careful not to get any on the floor. Finally, finally, he reached his crotch and he felt the anticipation in the room go up, and the air lifted, but sank all at once.

He poured a generous amount onto his palm and slowly stroked his cock through the fabric of his black lace panties. It made the panties even darker and the fabric cling more to his cock. After copious amounts of time rubbing himself this way and that, he made to tear off his panties.

A gun shot rang out.

The stage darkened.

Bucky got off the stage after his routine, wiped the oil off, and headed straight for the bar. The bartender slid him a glass of cold water – alcohol really doesn’t do shit for him, it just tastes bad.

He was sweating loads, add horny as fuck and a good workout into the equation and there you have him. Bucky finished his glass of water and surveyed the scene in front of him, deciding for a candidate to give The Lap Dance to.

 He decided on a muscular guy who looked like he just came from work, suit and all. (Which means he had a decent job which also means  Bucky had a better chance of getting a big tip.)He walked up to the guy, shaking his ass as he went, then promptly sat on his lap. He raised his eyebrows in question and the guy gave a quick nod. Bucky straddled him and cradled his head, digging his fingers in his hair. He gyrated his hips, dick against dick, and the man’s hands tightened around his waist. Bucky pushed his chest into the man’s face and and the man went to work on his nipple. Ugh, amateur. His dick deflated a little. He wrapped up his lapdance, collected his tip and left with a quick kiss to the man’s neck.

Bucky went on his rounds, then went back to the room to count his earnings. $400, not bad for a Friday night, considering he only did one dance on stage. He packed up quickly, putting on black jeans and a hoodie, and headed out.

Once he reached his apartment, he stripped off his clothes, naked save for the lace panties he changed into before leaving the stripclub.

Panties were more comfortable than briefs or boxers. They feel delicate against his skin, making him feel dainty and pretty, nothing like his arm makes him feel.He has every type of panty- lace, silk, cotton, thongs, briefs, hipster cut, whatever. You name it, Bucky probably has it.

Bucky was so horny and yet he was punishing himself by watching more porn and not getting off. He had a schedule, see. Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays were his cashier days. Wednesdays were his grocery and workout days (not that he can buy much with what little wage he’s earning but he survives).  Fridays and Saturdays were his stripclub days. Since the stripclub only opens in the evenings, he heads in early sometimes to help with stock taking (more pay). Otherwise, he does his yoga. It helps to calm his mind and relaxes his muscles before he has to twist and turn on stage for so many pairs of eyes.

Sundays, oh Sundays were Bucky’s favorite days. They’re his jerk off days. Yes, once the clock hits 12, he’s stripping off his clothes and just playing with himself until the clock hits twelve on Monday.

The exhaustion it brings gives him an extra one to two hours of sleep compared to the three hours he gets, maximum, every night.

This gives Bucky control, knowing that he has full reign of his mind now (not really he has nightmares and episodes that leave him shaking and curled up on the floor, but he likes to think that he does). The control is what he needs, what he craves.

He also craves human contact but whatever, that can wait, it’s not like he can bring himself to trust anyone right now.


	2. How dark does it really get? (about as dark as a quiet street lit by a few lamps)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * indicates the start or end of a flashback

Today was going to be a good day, Steve decided. He didn’t have those fucking nightmares about drowning _and_ Tony fucking Stark leaves for his vacation in wherever wherever today. Steve’s going to make the most out of it.

He starts the day with going on his daily jogs with Sam Wilson, his bestfriend, his partner in crime, his only black friend. (No really, he’s not racist he just needs more black friends.) Rhodey who? They barely even talk during the million parties that Tony fucking Stark throws anyway. They just never …. connected. Nothing to talk about.

Then he went to his favorite coffeshop, Lola’s, it’s so aesthetically pleasing, with it’s warm yellow lights, cemented tables with copper coloured table legs, and it’s cute little crockery. And did he mention the variety of coffee and tea it has? God fucking dammit he’s in heaven whenever he enters that little café at the end of the block.

He goes back to the tower and looks up dog adoption drives on the internet and cooing quietly at the cute doggos (yes they sound cuter that way) on display. He really, really, _really_ wants one. And he really doesn’t get why some dumbasses insist on buying dogs when there are so many out there for free, in need of a home and an owner. They may look prettier, sure, but can you really resist the cute puppy eyes staring at you ohmygosh Steve was already getting flustered and tears were starting to appear in his eyes. He’s such a fucking dork and he knows it but can anyone blame him? He loves dogs too fucking much.

He was knocked out from his reverie- literally, by Natasha’s knuckles rapping softly against his temples.

“Anybody in there?” She questioned with a hand on her hip and an eyebrow cocked up. Ha. Cock. He loves cock, especially Bucky’s since it was the only one he’s ever tasted but-

“Steve Rogers, ma’am, thinking about cock.” Steve asserted.

Natasha rolled her eyes and commented, “We all knew that Steve. Dogs and cock. The only two things that matter to you.”

Steve huffed out a muffled reply. Nat didn’t bother asking what the fuck he was saying.

“Wanna go to a strip club?” Natasha asked nonchalantly, like she was talking about the fucking weather. Obviously, she was not.

“W-what?” Steve sputtered, clearly taken aback and not expecting  the conversation to go down this newly just opened fresh out the oven road.

“Talk about cock and you’re all chill, a strip club and you’re choking on your saliva?” Nat pondered.

“Anyways,” she continued, backing away from Steve, “meet me at the lobby at 8. Wear loose pants and bring dollar bills.”

-

Today was one of Bucky’s bad days. Here’s what his bad days consist of; a throbbing headache, extreme sensitivity, excessive sweating, and a constant dull pain running from the area where metal touches skin to the entire left part of his spine and side. To top it all off, his anxiety was really bad and he cowered at every bit of noise.

Bucky walked slowly to his fridge and took out a frozen bag of peas. He lied down on the floor of his apartment and placed the peas on where it hurt the most, the middle of his spine. He couldn’t handle the softness of the mattress at the moment.

*

It was 1953. Hydra had deemed The Asset ready for an overnight mission. His gear was shoved onto him, and a metal muffler was roughly tied to his mouth.

“Illinois. Springfield. 2 Bentham Road. Ronald Wingham. Murder by asphyxiation. Stakeout on roof. Kill any witnesses. Rendezvous point on 16 December 1953, at 0350.”

The Asset gave a sharp nod and was pushed toward the jet, five guns trained on him.

He arrived 6 hours later.

13 hours later, The Asset dropped silently through an open window. ‘Idiots,’ a singular thought echoing in his empty brain. 2 minutes later, the target was located. 3 minutes later, an esophagus was broken and a man lay dead on his bathroom floor, an equally dead rat shoved in his mouth. The rat was a witness.

At 0300, The Asset was waiting at the rendezvous point.

On 16 December 1953, 0952, a mission report was given. A flavored protein shake was given as reward.

At 1100, a freezing cold enveloped The Asset, seeping deep into his bones. His joints ached. He felt his blood start to freeze up. White sparks flew behind his closed eyelids.

The Asset was stored.

The entire Hydra base heaved a sigh of relief. It was safer this way.

*

Bucky woke up from the nap he didn’t know he was taking and shivered. Cold. It was so _cold_ and yet he was sweating. His brain was a mess. New memories were starting to resurface. But _why did it hurt so much?_ Bucky went up on his knees and cradled his head in his hands, curling in on himself. His breathing was labored and he allowed a few whimpers and moans to slip out.

He stayed in that position for the rest of the night, eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted.

He didn’t hear the ringing of the phone, his employer on the other line, an enquiry on the tip of her tongue, wondering why the _fuck_ Bucky wasn’t at the club yet.

 -

Steve checked himself in the mirror one last time, making sure that his hair was in place. He made his way down to wait for Na. He was 5 minutes early, so he was surprised to see Nat already waiting, looking gorgeous in a little black dress and silvery holographic stilettos.

Nat, sensing his presence, looked up and gave his outfit a quick glance. She then rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

“What? You said loose pants!” Steve huffed out. He had on black sweatpants with ‘SUCKASS’ printed on its sides in white. Paired with a white shirt, a black cap and his white converse high tops, he thought he looked pretty good.

“Trendy Steve Rogers. I’m impressed.”

“Shut up. Let’s get going already.”

“Impatient to see the goods huh?”

Steve flushed a deep red, he felt it in the tips of his ears. This was the first time _ever_ that he was going to a strip club. He felt nervousness and an underlying excitement.

-

They arrived at ‘Sensory’ and the bouncer let them through, despite a long queue forming outside. The inside was dark, except for the runway-like stage that was lit with varying colours. Toward the left of the stage was a bar, with a mirror as it’s table surface. There were chairs and tables littered around the stage.

Nat guided Steve to a table on the far right, obscuring them but giving them a good view of the entire club.

“When they come to you, they’re asking if you want a lapdance-you do know what that is right?” Nat gave him a questioning glance.

“Where did you think I came from? The Stone Age?”

“Yea well, you practically did.”

Steve gave a huge guffaw in reply.

He went to get them some drinks-Mint Julep for Steve and White Russian for Nat. Steve giggled at Nat’s choice. White Russian. She really was a white Russian. He giggled some more.

Once he got their drinks, he turned to find a hot black woman in a lace white bra and a slip of fabric they call panties. Watching the stark contrast between their skin, how the woman’s  pussy was grinding against Nat’s pubic bone, how Nat was grinding back, got Steve’s face on fire. Sure, Steve watched porn, but this was _real_.

They were basically having sex! Hot Lady (that’s what he was gonna call the black woman)  had her hands in Nat’s hair while she moved her hips, head arched back in pleasure, while Nat had a mouth on Hot Lady’s right tit, licking and wetting the lace.

They were getting quite an audience, actually. Steve forced his legs to move forward and quietly placed their drinks on the table after taking a huge gulp out of his, trying to quell the raging fire in his cheeks.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. Surely it was rude to stare at Hot Lady and Nat? But they were right _beside him._ Even if he didn’t look, he could still see them moving from his peripheral vision! He could maybe walk away? But where could he go? Fuck! If Nat didn’t finish her lapdance any time soon, Steve was fucked. He looked up to the stage but the dancers were in between dance shifts (if that was a thing?) and there was nothing for him.

Until a naked torso blocked his vision. He looked up and assessed the person. She had long black hair, almond shaped eyes, and plump red lips that _called_ to him. She had no top on, exposing her light brown tits to him. She was beautiful.

“Yea?” She questioned in a sultry voice, leg lifting, ready to climb on him.

“Y-yes please.” His voice wavered.

Steve would always belong to Bucky but Bucky would let Steve get some relief once in awhile right? He didn’t want to wander down the treacherous road that had all of his memories of Bucky boxed up. He wanted to enjoy himself. Just this once.

So he let go.

She wrapped a hand around his neck and the other brushed against his half hard dick. Steve went stiff. She did her thing, getting him to full hardness. The fire in his cheeks got even stronger. He willed his dick down by thinking of vomit and dumpster trash but it wasn’t working. Not with the constant warmth of clothed pussy rubbing against him.

“Suck my tits.” She whispered in his ear, then leaned back and looked up at him through her eyelashes.

Yea sure he could do that. He has been told(by Bucky) that he was very good at that. He went down on her, tasting her salty flesh and softly nipping at her hardened bud. Steve heard a shaky groan followed by a loud sharp shout. He lifted his head quickly, alerted, bumping his head against the lady’s chin in the process.

The lady gave a quiet “Ow!” as he assessed the situation. Turns out it was Natasha, who was currently catching her breath, hair mussed up, lips flushed pink. His rush of adrenaline was for naught. Steve quickly diverted his attention back to the lady and sucked on her breasts with gusto. She arched her back, pushing harder onto Steve’s cock and moving faster. She suddenly let out a rush of breath and slumped down.

“You’re a fucking sex god. Wanna come join me?” The lady asked as she stood up from Steve’s lap, a daring expression on her face.

Steve shook his head and took out some bills from his back pocket before handing them to her. Before he could say anything, a rough voice cut him off.

“Holy fuck, the people here are good. I actually came!” Nat’s eyes widened in surprised.

“She called me a sex god! And I didn’t even put my dick in her!” Steve said in reply, dazed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know if i forget to tag something! im a dumbass sometimes.


	3. How dark does it really get? (like a well lit room with shadows)

It was jerk off day and Bucky was too bone tired to even think about jerking off. He spent the whole night crouched in the middle of the living room, mind still wide awake. He remembered more things now. Things that confused him. Were he and Steve in a relationship? Or was Bucky just pining over Steve?

*

It was 1923.

Bucky was 6 years old. Steve was 3. Steve just moved in and Bucky was excited to visit his new neighbor. It’s not like Bucky had really seen Steve. All he knew was the boy was shorter than him and had shiny silky blonde hair that shone so bright. Bucky was fascinated. He had never seen hair that shiny.

“Mo-om! Hurry up! I wanna go see the new neighbor!” Bucky stood close to the door, stomping his foot.

“No more wining, James Buchanan Barnes. Unless you don’t wanna go see the neighbours!” Winifred Barnes ordered, head peeking out of the kitchen to look at Bucky.

Bucky stomped his feet again and crossed his arms, letting out a full on pout, a small frown covering his chubby face.

“Now you will be polite and let me introduce us first, you hear that?” Winifred asked as she bustled out of the kitchen, plate of walnut cake in hand.

Bucky nodded his head, all traces of his frown and pout disappearing. The walnut cake smelt good and Bucky had to have some. He reached his hand up to sneak a piece out of the plate, but Winifred, knowing his son’s antics through and through stopped him in time. And…. The pout was back.

Together, the Barnes’ headed over to their new neighbours. Just 5 steps and they reached the neighbours’ door. Bucky knew because he counted.

His momma rang the doorbell while Bucky scratched his cheek in anticipation. The door opened and Winifred was quick to speak.

“Hi! Welcome to the neighbourhood! We saw that you’ve just moved in and we wanted to give you a warm welcome! We’re the Barnes’. I’m Winifred and this little devil is James.”

“It’s Bucky! Ma!” Bucky interrupted with a huff. Trust his momma to always introduce him as James. James was such a proper name and Bucky wasn’t proper. He liked being called ‘this little devil’, it gave him a weird sense of pride. It made him different from the others, he wasn't 'my boy' (though he was sometimes) or 'my child'. He was 'my little devil'.

The lady at the door laughed and introduced herself as Sarah Rogers. Bucky,impatient as ever, questioned, “Where’s the golden boy?”

Sarah’s eyes widened before hurrying back inside, and appearing a mere few seconds later with a squirmy thin boy in her arms.

“This is my little sunshine, Steve. Steve, say hi to Mrs Barnes and Bucky!” Sarah announced, nosing Steve's cheek in the process.

“Hi Mrs Barnes! Hi Buck!” Steve replied, all wide eyed and staring at the new boy with muddy brown hair and the pair of bright grey eyes.

Bucky was _infuriated_. His name was Bucky! Not Buck!

“It’s Bucky!” The pout and frown came back.

“Buck!” Steve squealed back, apparently enjoying this game of repeating Bucky’s name to each other.

“Baby, his name’s Buck-ee. Say Buck-ee.” Sarah uttered, a voice of patience.

“BUCK!” this time, Steve shouted it, hands balled into fists, entire body jumping up from Sarah’s arms. His grin was wide enough to show all his baby teeth.

Bucky sighed loudly and shook his head, putting on a show for everyone who was watching. Bucky loooooved eyes on him. It made him feel important and that he mattered.

“Do you wanna come in and play with Steve? Oh! Winifred, come in too, we can share the cake you made!” Sarah exclaimed.

Bucky bounded in the house before waiting for his momma’s reply, looking around and scrutinizing every detail. That was, until Steve baby walked towards him.

“Come!” Steve said, walking towards one of the rooms in his house.

Bucky dutifully followed and stepped into a room much like his, but this one had blankets and soft toys littered all over the floor (Bucky’s momma would never allow that) and a cot tucked away in the corner of the room.

Steve plopped down in the middle of the room and crawled towards a white bear, picking it up and crawling back to Bucky. He looked up at Bucky and patted he floor beside him. After Bucky sat down, legs crossed, he handed Bucky the bear and proceeded to lay in Bucky’s lap, looking like he was about to fall asleep.

“Hey! Stevie! No sleeping, more playing!” (Bucky felt as if he should modify Steve’s name since he did that to Bucky.) But Steve  was already fast asleep, head pillowed on Bucky's lap, long eyelashes sweeping his cheeks.

Bucky frowned and stood slowly, careful not to disturb the sleeping boy, softly laying Steve’s head on the floor. His tongue peeked out from in between his lips in concentration, trying to lift Steve up without waking him.

Steve was light as a feather and Bucky easily carried him to the cot and draped several blankets over him. This boy looked too frail and was bound to get cold in the middle of the night. Even Bucky woke up because of the chills sometimes. Bucky picked up every single soft toy and piled it on top of and around Steve before patting his head (he couldn’t reach in the cot to kiss Steve) and leaving the room.

*

This memory was fuzzy around the edges. He only knew that it was the first time he ever saw Steve. Steve barely talked but Bucky remembered feeling a sense of comfort and warmth when he was around Steve. A plus was that Steve was an adorable baby.

Bucky went about his day, cleaning his apartment and watering his plants. He had various types of plants on his window sill. He still had trouble getting orchids to grow though, those were some hardass plants.

-

It was only in the evening that his tiredness went away and he was horny as fuck again. Bucky looked up at the clock, cursing when he saw that it was already 8. That gave him exactly 4 hours to relief himself.

Bucky sat heavily on the bed and pulled up a purple dick shaped vibrator and a bottle of lube out of his bedside drawer.

He started by ridding himself of his clothed, then mushed his face against the mattress with his ass high up in the air. He squeezed a large amount of lube on his palm before resting his metal hand on his hard cock and stroking. He then poured more lube and slathered it over his asshole, some of it dripping down onto the bed below.

He moved his fingers in a circle around his hole, before plunging his metal fingers in. He wiggled his fingers around and quickly found his prostate. He pressed down hard on it, and cried out at the white hot feeling it ignited, spreading from the bottom of his spine all the way down to his toes.

The sounds that his hands were making on his cock and in his ass were _obscene_ , the wet, slick sounds music to Bucky’s ears. He scrunched his toes and let out a low moan. Thank fuck he was living alone, at least there wasn’t someone _in the next room_. He grabbed for his vibrator and slicked it up, then reached behind to push it in his ass.

With every inch that went in his ass, his voice pitched higher and higher.

“Fuck!” Bucky yelled when he bottomed out and switched on the vibrator. His breath hitched as he let out little high pitched whimpers.

He slowly sat up, moaning when the vibrator hit a whole new angle-pressed hard against his prostate, and fucking _vibrating_. Bucky jerked his hips once and came, white translucent ribbons of cum painted his chest. It took him a few seconds to recover, but he wasn't sated yet.

Still hard, Bucky brought up a pillow, angling it where it’s edge pointed upwards. He sat down quickly and gyrated his hips, getting faster and faster until he heard stitches tearing and a build up of ecstatic pressure in his dick.

“Nngh! Fuc-oh SHIT! Oh!Oh! OHHHHHH!” and Bucky came again, his chest became a work of art.

Bucky threw the pillow on the floor, now out of shape and wet with lube and precum.

He lied down on his back and changed the vibrations to a pulsing rhythm. Now he was in control again. He looked up at the clock, vision blurry. He had about 3 hours and 15 minutes till Monday. Bucky decided to lay in that position and not touch himself for an hour.

At the half hour mark, Bucky was already whimpering and tears leaked out of his eyes. His lower torso was wet with precum and his thighs were tingling. Bucky was a sight to behold. Red lips-bitten raw, mussed up hair and doe eyes bright with tears. His chest was moving up and down with the effort to continue breathing, stealing little pockets of air with each rise of his chest.

His cock was stained a deep purple, balls red, veins protruding out with the effort to not cum. His metal arm was clenching his flesh arm, both arms lending the support to each other against the restrained muscles begging to be  _let go_ and touch his cock.

He stilled his body and took in a deep breath. Bucky let himself slip into a place where there wasn’t anything to worry about, except for the tiny words echoing in his brain, ‘you have the control now.’

45 minutes later, Bucky slowly woke up from his drop, becoming more aware of his surroundings and his aching cock laying against his stomach.

He needed that, he seldom had a chance where his mind was free of any worry and thought. It was refreshing, and though Bucky felt more lethargic than before, his mind was thankful for the rest it was given. Bucky scraped across the head of his cock with his nails, reveling in the relief it brought.

Bucky pushed his head backwards into the mattress and started jerking himself off quickly with his metal arm, plates making little sounds with how fast the arm was going. He remembered using his right arm to jerk off when he was young, but now the metal one had more power and speed.

Bucky’s whole body jerked off the bed when he came. He came so hard that he felt as if his dick broke. Aftershocks ran though his body as he twitched involuntarily, sparkly nerves still ran along his spine, his head and his toes. It was a whole body orgasm. He didn’t know he was still whimpering and moaning until his hearing slowly came back, and he was hyper aware of his surroundings yet again.

The first time he had a full body orgasm, he was worried and shocked. How could he have been so reckless? To leave himself so vulnerable with no awareness of his surroundings? Bucky couldn’t even feel the bed below him god fucking dammit! He wasn’t prepared to leave the world to this place where he couldn’t ask his mind to go back to awareness because he was so fucked out. He felt the after effects of it for days, looking around every corner and even more sensitive to sounds than he usually was. What if Hydra had a chance to enter his apartment when he was lost to his mind?

But Bucky got better. Slowly, he adjusted to life without constant fear. He had some setbacks, but they just made him see how far he had come from the shell of a man he once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know if i've forgotten to tag something crucial!  
> and also, was the jump from smut to serious shit too abrupt?


	4. How dark does it really get? (Like sunshine spilling over flowers)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is shorter than usual, it's just a filler chapter for more exciting things coming up.

Steve just came back from a solo mission in Atlanta. He was coated with grub and sweat and layers upon layers of dust. He’s pretty sure he just stank up the entire elevator on the way up to his floor in Tony Fucking Stark’s tower.

The elevator dinged and he padded softly to his bathroom, shedding his tac gear quickly. He filled up his bathtub with warm water that was bordering on hot, then opened the marble cabinet hanging on the wall at the back of the bath.

He was faced with shelves of Lush product. It was a little on the expensive side, but it was ethical and smelt and looked nice. He liked to pamper himself now that he has the chance. After years of living in poverty and sometimes going a week without touching clean water and eating boiled potatoes for breakfast, lunch _and_ dinner, he liked to treat himself whenever he had the chance. Those chances come after every mission and possibly every Sunday night.

He selected Twilight, the lavender colored water it creates, plus the calming smell helps him to get his mind straight again after a mission. Too much blood and gore isn’t good for anyone.

He then went to the mini fridge under the sink where he kept the Lush products that needed to be kept cold before or during use. (Yes he has money to spend now) (And yes Tony fucking Stark paid for all of that so his money is still in his pocket)

He picked Catastrophe Cosmetic. It helped to soften his face real good and cleanses it real well too. He washed the grime off his face with Angels on Bare Skin. It really did angelic things to his face. He then applied a thick layer of the mask on his face before slinking into the bathtub. The warm water immediately loosened his muscles and the smell calmed his mind.

He played some soul music, closing his eyes and focusing on the velvety crooning of the singer.

-

It was Monday AKA cashier day. There were lots of people, who procrastinated their grocery shopping on Sundays and trying to catch up when they realize they don’t have much food in the refrigerator.  

Bucky was in charge of counter 10. He always was. The other cashiers switched around but not Bucky.

He was adamant about staying at the same counter. It was a constant and he damn well knew he needed more consistency than the average person because it was predictable and he didn’t have to keep adjusting to new environments.

He knew that there would be a chip on the tile of the floor at the left of his feet. He knew that you had to give the till an extra hard shove for it to stay in. Counter 10 was also the last counter, and people don’t normally head for the one the furthest from them.

He’d hope that he wouldn’t be facing difficult customers today but his luck was out and he was now head to head with a demonic one.

“Sir, I would like to inform you that this product isn’t with the 3 for 2 promotion. There has been  a mix up. Sorry about that.” Bucky said meekly, meeting the eyes of the customer from under the obnoxious red baseball cap that was part of the uniform.

“Yea well that ain’t my fault.” The customer replied with a scoff.

“So are you still getting it sir?” Bucky tilted his head in question. It was a thing he had and he didn’t even register that he was doing it.

“Yes. Put it with the 3 for 2.”

“But sir, I _just_ told you that this product wasn’t in with the promotion!” Bucky’s eyes widened with disbelieve.

“It said it in the tag. I believe what’s written. A hobo like you tryin to get some extra cash from this?” A thick vein in the customer’s forehead started to protrude.

“No. Sir. There has been a mix up.”  Bucky felt as if he had repeated this a hundred thousand times.

“I will not be giving my money to some broke ass dude who has to work as a cashier. Probably gonna be stuck here your whole life.” The customer taunted.

“And which part of me says that I’m broke?” Bucky narrowed his eyes at the man.

“Let’s see. First, your hair. You’re probably too broke to get a haircut. Second, the fact that you’re in your thirties and working as a _cashier._ ”

Bucky was fuming. How dare this fucker talk to him like that? He was the motherfucking winter soldier, king of all assassins, and he wasn't about to stand there and just take it. He was this close to wrapping his metal arm around the man's neck. But he decided to fight this demon with words instead.

“Maybe you should learn to stop acting like you know everything about a person just because of what they look like physically. Because 90% of the time, looks are deceiving and people always turn out differently from what they’re trying to or can’t help but portray.”

He thought back to Steve. Little Stevie Rogers who was all skin and bones. People thought he was weak, that he could be pushed around. But honestly? A split second later and he’s changing your mind. He’s quick to defend people and so ready to take on the world, with his bony shoulders, and feet too big for his tiny body.

To Dum Dum, who wore that dumb bowler hat and had a stomach even rounder than that. People saw him as a laze, one who did nothing but wanted all the credit. In reality, he was the most humorous and open minded man  the world had had the pleasure of seeing back in the 1940s. He was also the best one out of the howling commandos at combat fighting. Others had the agility, but he had the skill and one hell of a misleading front. Enemies sent the weaker ones after him, but he killed them off as quickly as it took to say 'shit', then went to help the others. A great man he was.

“And maybe, I might be working as a cashier but that don’t mean that I’m poorer than you. I might be of the same financial status or maybe, just …… maybe, I’m of better status. I sure as hell have better morals and ethics than you. Try working in the service sector for a day. 3 hours, maybe. See what it's like to serve people like you.”

Bucky glared at the customer before walking away and looking for the store manager. He came back to the man still looking gobsmacked and the queue getting longer. Fuck.

The problem was quickly resolved and Bucky went back to being a hobo cashier. He let out a snigger. Dumbass fucking old man thought that he was better than everyone.He thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, let me know if ive forgotten to tag something.


	5. How dark does it really get? (Like sunshine spilling on a naked writhing body)

“Steve-o! We’re doing movie night again. You joining us?” Clinton please shut up Barton asked loudly as he stepped into the common room, announcing his arrival.

Steve looked up from his phone, then thought about it.

“Who’s going?”

“Nat, Clint, Sammy, Jarvis, the Maximoffs, Stark, maybe Banner.”

“You do realize you just said your name right?”

“Well you wanted to know who was gonna be there!” Clint shrugged.

They used to have these movie nights when Steve came out from the ice. First, to familiarize him with pop culture and also to acclimate him to how people speak now. While they were watching the movie, they feel into various positions and roles, strengthening their dynamic in the group.

Nat would be the kitten, cuddling in with anyone near her. Sam was the blanket hogger. Clint gave opinion too loudly, overriding whatever the actors were saying. Steve kinda wanted to punch him whenever he did that, but he’s funny so it’s okay. Banner was the sleeper, and Tony fucking Stark surprisingly kept his mouth shut during movies. It’s after the movie that he talks and talks about it, making up theories, conspiracies that honestly no one cares about. Steve was a couch hogger. He laid sideways, body stretched out with his hand supporting his head.

But today, he wasn’t so sure that he wanted that. His thoughts were straying tonight. Sometimes (most of the time) he wished that he and Bucky had lived in this era and he could bring Bucky to all these awesome places in the most awesome vehicles. And he had money now too, being in love with someone of the same gender was accepted, he could go out with Bucky on dates and smother Bucky in love wherever they were. He wondered what Bucky would look like when he took this all in. He bet it would fill him with a warmth so deep in his chest that it would never truly go away. Oh god, he missed Bucky.

*

His heart clenched as he remembered going to a bar with Bucky. This was the first time they went to a bar together. Steve usually stayed at home while Bucky went out dancing with the dames. He was almost chased out because of his small build until he showed his identification. Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders and whispered, “Stevie Rogers, lookin so innocent and pure as Christ, but hooooo boy, take this boy to bed and he’s spitting out curse words you never even knew existed.”

Bucky shot him a sideways smirk and pulled on his suspenders. Steve flushed a deep red. If anyone came close enough, they would be able to hear every single word. If only he could tell the world that they were in love. It hurt his heart to think that here, in this lifetime, he would never get to kiss Bucky openly, never be able to marry him, never be able to worry about him too much without anyone thinking their relationship was actually something  _vile._

Bucky must have seen the look on Steve’s face because he quickly held on to Steve’s knobby shoulders and said, “Hey Stevie, we’re just here to have a good time right? Dance with some dames, drink some scotch, then we’ll head back and do whatever you want. Unless you wanted to go now?”

Steve shook his head and stalked towards the bar, ordering a scotch before plunking down in his seat. Bucky came seconds after him, repeating Steve's actions. Steve felt his heart clench, he could never get any dames to dance with him. They all wanted a manly man, specifically Bucky Barnes, wanting his sweet smile, and even sweeter words that he whispered in their ear from the start till the end of the dance.

He could understand why the dames liked it so much. After all, he was on the receiving end of that almost every night. It made his heart flutter, his weak legs even weaker, and this overpowering urge to do whatever Bucky wanted him to do, to give Bucky whatever he wanted.

But Bucky was _his_. Sure, he got to taste Bucky’s delicious cock every night, maybe get his tasted too, but he couldn’t let anyone _know_. He wanted everyone to know that sweet gorgeous Bucky Barnes was his. He wanted everyone to know that Steve loved Bucky and that Bucky loved him back. After all, people should be able to love who they want to love. What’s so wrong with that?

That night, two lonely figures walked on the street, lit up by the dim glow of street lamps. One was red cheeked, reeking of alcohol and various perfumes, the other was trapped in his own head, grumpy and cursing at the unfairness of it all.

Once they reached their apartment building, Steve immediately took a deep breath and climbed the stairs with fierce determination. Forget the stinking smell of urine that polluted his lungs whenever he took a breath, he just wanted to quickly get to _their apartment_ and remind Bucky that they were each other’s.

Steve made it up to the sixth floor in a record 10 minutes, Bucky trailing behind him. He turned left and headed down the corridor to the last apartment. He ignored the pieces of newspaper and cigarettes littering the floor, of which he would normally scoff at and curse whoever left them there.

He shoved his key hard into the keyhole and opened the door. “Get in.” Steve ordered Bucky, even though he was barely inside yet.

Bucky dutifully followed his orders because honestly, where else would Bucky go? Stay in the stinking corridor and embrace the smokey wind that stubbornly blew right through their apartment building?

Steve kicked his shoes off and took off into the bedroom. He ripped (or as close as he could get to ripping) his clothes off, climbed on the bed and held his ass high up in the air. A clear indication for Bucky to eat him out. He heard Bucky enter the room, stopping short at the sight of Steve in full display for him.

“Oh, Stevie, baby, you look so good.”

“Eat me out now Bucky.” He needed to prove that Bucky would give him anything he wanted too. He spread his knees wider, hands coming up to hold his ass cheeks apart.

“Jesus, sweetheart. Looking so pretty for me. Luckiest guy in the whole of Brooklyn.”

Steve blushed but hid his face in the sheets. He was pretty sure that Bucky could see the tips of his ears burning red though.

He felt Bucky move towards him, then when Bucky softly placed two warm palms on his hips, he shivered in delight.

Bucky’s knees ticked as he knelt down on the floor behind Steve, muttering, “You know I love you right?”

“Love you back,” Steve replied as he nodded.

Bucky, upon hearing those words, licked a thick stripe from Steve’s balls to his asshole, then circled around the tight ring of muscle. Bucky pulled back and let out a hot breath, giving his ass a cooling yet warming sensation that had Steve crying out Bucky’s name.

“You gotta be quiet for me yea? You know how these walls are.” Bucky murmured, each word releasing a small short breath onto Steve’s ass, so close he could almost feel Bucky’s lips moving.

Bucky wrapped his lips around Steve’s puckered hole, before sucking lightly, pressure building higher and higher. With the flicks of Bucky’s tongue surrounded by warm, wet pressure, Steve couldn’t help but let out a high pitched whine. His breathing quickened and he pushed his ass back harder into Bucky's face.

Bucky released him with a smooching sound, before biting his left ass cheek lightly. “Tastes so good baby, like heaven and sweetness. Goddamn Stevie, would eat your ass for breakfast, lunch and dinner if I could.”

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve whined out.

Bucky squeezed Steve’s ass before going down on him again, this time, his tongue peeked into the warm velvety hole and explored. His tongue slid in and out, hooking against the edge of Steve’s asshole before plunging back in again. The sounds his mouth made against Steve’s ass had Steve leaking from his cock.

Steve felt saliva drip down his asshole to his balls, then continuing to his dick, sliding off and joining the puddle of precum on the wet mattress. Steve was drooling, unable to control his actions, not with Bucky eating him out with such determination. Steve’s lips were blood red and his eyes had trouble focusing on a single object, rolling around, like Bucky’s tongue in him.

When Bucky pulled back, he tapped Steve’s thigh twice, signaling him to turn back around. This was Steve’s favorite part. Bucky was a mess, and this was all to give Steve pleasure. His cheeks and chin glistened with his saliva, some of it dripping from his chin. He hadn’t even bothered to wipe his mouth, diving in to kiss Steve with his swollen red lips.

After the kiss that left Steve boneless, he headed down to Steve’s cock. Steve had a thin cock, just like his body, but it stood proud and tall for Bucky’s taking. Granted, it was smaller than average and he was embarrassed to show it to Bucky at first but Bucky just said “All the better to suck you off with”.

Bucky didn’t even let Steve anticipate, he just plunged straight down, taking in Steve’s cock at one go. Steve let out a hoarse shout, what with all the moaning and whining he did earlier on. See this was a different type of mouth to crotch activity. In his ass, Bucky was inviting himself into Steve’s body, taking it one step at a time. But on his dick, Bucky just engulfed it in his heat, devouring it as if he was a starved man.

Bucky bobbed his head up and down, sucking hard, making wet sounds in the process. He stopped at the tip, tracing his tongue around like he was playing hockey or some shit. Steve looked down and he immediately covered his face with a pillow, groaning loudly. Bucky looked beautiful. Ethereal. His hair was an artful mess, pupils so dilated his usual blue grey eyes were nearly black. His red swollen lips wrapped around Steve’s dick, looking up at him through thick eyelashes. But best of all, he still had his clothes on, except for his zipper, which was pulled down and his pretty, pretty cock jutting out from it.

Bucky had the most beautiful cock Steve had ever seen. Not that he’d seen any, but still. It was thick, shrouded by black pubic hair, and it had those thick powerful veins guiding to his tip, which was a purplish red. He was at least 8 to 9 inches long, and it felt _amazing_ in Steve’s ass.

Bucky wasn’t touching his cock, if he ever had at all. Both hands were holding Steve’s legs down, pinning them against the mattress, his whole crotch area on display. It made Steve feel shy, but it also had Steve trembling with need for Bucky to fill him.

Steve had a fantasy that he hadn’t even told Bucky. He wanted to be naked at home, his hole constantly wet and open for Bucky to fill him whenever he wanted. When he was cooking, when they were reading. He imagined reaching for something in the high cupboard and Bucky manhandling him pulling Steve's ass toward Bucky's dick, entering Steve in one stroke, then fucking him into next month.

“Bucky please. Please. I’ve been waiting for _ages_ , Bucky _please_.”

Steve had been on edge since the bar and he _really needed Bucky in him right fucking now._

Bucky slipped a hand under the bed and picked up a jar of Vaseline, ¾ used. He picked up a huge blob and coated it over his cock. The shine it gave made his cock look even more enticing. He then took another huge blob and coated Steve’s asshole, sticking a finger in, stroking in and out until he felt that Steve was ready for another finger. Steve groaned when Bucky hit his prostate, muscles tensing, toes curling up.

“I’m ready Bucky. Fuck.”

“Okay, okay sweetheart. Deep breath. Good,” Bucky smiled when Steve did as he was told. Slowly, inch by inch, Bucky filled Steve up.

“Fuck, hold on.”

Bucky stilled and stroked a hand through Steve’s hair, staring at Steve with so much adoration.

“Take as long as you need, babydoll. As long as you need.”

It was always like this. Bucky was too big for Steve to handle sometimes but Steve, being a stubborn mull, just _had_ to take it all.

Steve felt his ass clench around Bucky’s cock, and he heard Bucky’s muffled groan. Bucky was biting his lips again, making his lips redder and spit shiny. Steve was worried that he’d break skin, so he reached up and pulled Bucky’s chin downwards, effectively withdrawing white teeth from red lips.

“Okay. I’m fine. Go.” Steve said when he was ready for more.

Bucky slowly moved in and bottomed out, releasing a sigh. He moved his cock slowly, holding Steve’s face in his hands, eye contact sizzling between them. Occasionally, he pressed small kisses to Steve’s face.

God knows how long Bucky had been fucking into Steve but finally, long into the night, they both let go, with a shout from Steve and a whisper of Steve’s name from Bucky.

*

“Steve-o! Steve-O! STEEEEEEEVE!” Clint please shut the fuck up Barton shouted, face in Steve’s.

Steve blinked a few times, waking up from the memory.

“Man, you went away there for a sec. So, are you going?”

Steve felt a burning in his groin. He looked down and his sweatpants were tented up. A wet spot slowly forming. Clint followed his gaze and his eyes widened in horror.

“St-Steve! Cap! What the f- You just get boners like that? While talking to someone? Are you into me? I don’t think Nat would be okay with that though if you discussed it, we might get together sometime?”

“No, Clint. I wasn’t thinking about you. But I guess I’m not going after all.”

Steve walked to the elevator, leaving Clint standing shell shocked. He muffled a laugh, trust Clint to think that Steve was thinking about him.

Steve let his mind wander while he was in the the elevator, the soft purring of the mechanics giving the sound effects of his brain thinking.

He knew where he was going tonight.


	6. How dark does it really get? (Like a lost bird stuck in a room, wondering how to get out to the sunny wilderness it came from)

Bucky was once again in his dressing room, which was a little bit overcrowded, given that it was a Saturday. He was sharing a booth with a lady called Mina. She had shiny chocolate colored skin and she was applying some type of oil? serum? onto her hair. She was the one that he was most comfortable with at this strip joint.

“What are you today?” Mina glancing at him with large almond colored eyes through the mirror.

Bucky took out a real looking plastic flower out from a drawer at twirled it between his fingers.

She hummed, then said, “My favourite.” She paused for a second before continuing, “How the fuck you be doing it though? One second you’re all hot and commanding, lookin like you be killin everyone out here in 30 seconds flat. Then the next you’re a flower fairy in satin and lace.”

She shook her head, looking impressed. Bucky _did not flush_ when he replied with a soft, “Thanks Min.”

Bucky gently combed through his hair and put it up in a french braid. He strategically put white and pastel pink flowers in his hair, looking in the mirror to make sure they were positioned just right. Mina looked over and adjusted a flower that was tilted too much to the left. Bucky smiled at her in thanks.

Bucky applied a light blush over his cheeks, and contoured his cheekbones to make him look more feminine. Today was all about the soft and graceful. He powdered his eyelids with soft shimmery gold eyeshadow, no eyeliner. Bucky curled his lashes and brushed on mascara. He stuck on fake eyelashes that he had previously cut to fit him and blinked several times to adjust to it.

He pressed a huge dollop of concealer onto his fingers and carefully applied it onto his scars on his left arm. After using up pretty much a quarter of the bottle, the red scarring didn’t look too obvious unless the light shone on it at the right angle.

He stripped off his clothes and put on a lace pastel pink bustier with white lace underwear. He then slipped a white garter over it. It emphasized the round of his ass and made him look even more enticing.

The routine was soft and graceful, with Bucky just twirling around the stage and teasing. Not really strip club material. That’s why, the boss promised to let him continue this routine if he masturbated and came. In front of everyone. This was the first day he was gonna try this new thing out. It fucked with his schedule and he wasn’t sure how it would affect him. He normally really liked orgasms right? But he was upredictable and A Good Day could always turn into A Bad Day in 30 seconds flat.

Bucky sighed as he took out a small vibrator plug from a pouch in his backpack. He followed by scrounging around for a packet of lube. After he found it, he quickly tore it open and shifted his underwear to the side. He squeezed half the packet onto his fingers and went on to finger himself open. His breathing was labored when he felt he was ready for the plug, cock heavy between his thighs. One of his legs were up on the desk, and he could see some people glancing at him through the mirror.

He knew it was less than sanitary to be doing this here, but he didn’t have time to go to the bathroom which was at the opposite end of the joint. He didn’t even feel awkward or embarrassed to have his leg hitched up and asshole open for everyone to see. Hydra hadn’t given him any private quarters to do his personal business. It was always in front of five pairs of eyes. It was kinda normal for him.

But he still didn’t like showing it off to strangers he couldn’t even _see_ from the stage, and hence the plug and not his fingers on stage. The people in this room had been with him for exactly 8 months and 27 days. He wasn’t uncomfortable with them.

With three more dancers before him, Bucky gave himself a cursory glance, calmed his nerves and tried to get his emotions under _control._

-

Steve pulled on a large black kind of bleached shirt. It covered his frame well enough and it wouldn’t attract too much attention to him. Why would Captain America be in a strip club anyway? He pulled on black sweatpants and his grayish nike sneakers. He checked his wallet for dollar bills and decided that he had enough for tonight. He wasn’t gonna get a lapdance anyway. He was gonna pay attention to those on stage. He googled their Facebook page and apparently there was gonna be a really beefy brunette there tonight. He loved brunette, the love of his whole fucking life being a brunette a major key here. He felt as though he was cheating on Bucky but it's not as if he was alive anwyay. There’s nothing wrong with watching is there?

He drove his Harley Davidson to the joint and parked at the side of the road. When he got to enter (maybe he got a free pass after being seen with Nat), it seemed to be the end of a routine and the start of another. The room darkened and the stage was lit up by a soft warm light. There was a mattress in the middle of the stage, covered be a sky blue bedsheet. It had three pillows.

A soft tinkling music started, different from what Steve had previously been expecting. He held his breath in anticipation, and so did everyone else in the room. The beefy brunette entered the stage with a twirl, doing twists and turns everywhere. Steve wasn’t sure what the dancer had on yet. He was a twirling erotic blur on stage, bending his back, stretching his legs, face hidden in the shadows.

What caught Steve’s attention was the shiny metal arm that he had. Strangely, it went with the feminine glow that the dancer seemed to give off. He wondered if it was a sleeve the stripper put on to be different from everyone else or if it was a prosthetic.

The dancer slowed down, then ended up on the mattress. Steve could finally see what he was wearing and _fuck_ he could feel his dick start to harden and rise.

Long muscular legs were encased in white, his chest was wrapped in a silky material, pushing up, up, up, that his pecs looked like tits. Steve let out a low growl as he moved his way closer to the stage to get a better view. He was so entranced he didn’t think this whole room blowing up would have made him look away.

The man slowly opened his legs, revealing round balls and a huge, hard cock. Steve’s breath hitched as he pushed his hand against his aching cock to give it some relief. The man’s hips bucked and his mouth opened, letting out a silent moan. He pushed down on the mattress and slowly pulled off his panties. Steve’s mouth dried. That was the most perfect cock he had ever seen in his life. It strangely looked like Bucky’s. The thick veins were still there and the slight tilt of his left ball was also present.

Steve told himself that he was _mad stupid crazy_ and to _just enjoy the show dumbass_. He saw the man’s chest rise and fall as he breathed heavily. His hands shook as it went down to cup his balls, kneading it between his fingers. Wow, he really was turned on by exhibiting for others.

He writhed on the bed, putting on a show for everyone. His skin glistened deliciously from being so worked up and Steve could feel the wetness on the front of his pants. He moved closer still and soon he was just beside the stage.

The man’s breathing quickened, left hand gripping the sheets as white splattered all over his chest and some on his right cheek, letting out a loud yell that carried above the music.

Wait.

Steve recognized that yell.

It was too familiar to not know who it belonged to. Bucky? But Bucky didn’t have long hair and he sure as hell wasn’t this thick before. But the way the person rolled his hips, he knew it like the back of his hand.

He suddenly felt faint. Bucky was dead and he was hallucinating again, wasn’t he? His heartrate quickened and his boner had already flagged. He was having a Crisis. How can Bucky be alive? What the fuck? Was this some kind of sick joke?

How the fuck- Jesus fucking Christ, shit. But it was his Bucky?????

The person stood up on shaky Bambi legs and his face caught in the light. Holy shit. This was definitely Bucky. Was this the science thing where 7 people in the world looked exactly alike or something?? He was so overshelmed he couldn't even pinpoint which emotions he was feeling. Maybe he wasn't even feeling at all, he was for sure in a state of shock.

Steve Rogers was gonna find out why the fuck this person looked so much like his Bucky. If by some twisted warp in reality, it was James Buchanan Barnes the love of his goddamn life, Steve Rogers would not have a fucking clue what to do.


	7. How dark does it really get? (Like a grayscale gradient)

Bucky hurried off the stage after his performance, feeling sick to his stomach.  He fucked up. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. He should have just given up his favorite performance. He should have put his wants before his needs. Now it’s all gone to shit.

He finally reached the dressing room and reached for his backpack with a shaky hand. Mina took one look at him and a look of concern covered her face.

“Tell boss I need some time off. Might not be here for next week.”

He could tell Mina wanted to know more but she thankfully kept her mouth shut. Though before Bucky left, she ordered, “Text me every fucking day or else I’ll be giving you a visit.”

He used to have these episodes really often when he first escaped. Mina noticed and she _cared_ , demanding to know his number and address in a tone of voice that Bucky couldn’t refuse. She didn’t know the cause of it but she knew that he tended to hole up in his apartment for days on end without even drinking or eating.

When he knew that someone cared for him, the episodes weren’t as bad. He knew that there was someone out there waiting for him to get back, taking his first step back into the real world after days of isolation.

He nodded as he shakily put on a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He shoved his shoes on and stalked out of the dressing room. He really fucked up this time. Why the fuck was he dumb enough to agree to something that changed his schedule out of the blue? He wasn’t even that prepared for it until the boss told him the news earlier today.

Bucky could feel himself losing touch with reality, knowing the way home by pure muscle memory. He felt trapped again. He was surrounded by so much space but he felt trapped. It was as if there was a layer of dirt covering his skin and his insides. When he stumbled back home, he headed straight to the shower, scrubbing and scrubbing, but still the dirt wouldn’t budge. He felt his heart clench as he squatted down under the showers, head cradled in his hands, silent tears flowing down his face.

It was a vortex. Bucky couldn’t move. There wasn’t a way in, and there wasn’t a way out. Still feeling dirty even after the shower, he curled up in a ball beside the bed, not feeling clean enough to enjoy the smell of fresh clean linen under his cheek. He got trapped in his whole head the whole night, eyes wide open but unseeing, body violently shaking, threatening to push a tear out of it’s flooded edge, but it wouldn’t budge. He lay there all night and the day after, and the day after, skin scratched raw, throat aching with the need to cry out.

_Control._

He needed to have control.

-

Steve pushed pass people and tried to get backstage. There was a hulking bodyguard standing at the stage entrance, towering even over Steve.  His hand shot out and grabbed Steve’s arm.

“No one’s allowed backstage.” The bodyguard growled out.

“But- but I know someone in there! He’s Bucky, do you know him?”

“You think I haven’t heard a million of these already? And what the fuck kind of name is Bucky? Pick a more believable name you fucking dumbass.” The bodyguard roughly shoved Steve, leaving Steve scrambling backwards.

Steve knew that this wasn’t going to work. Of course they wouldn’t let him in. How many creepy bastards have tried to sneak in? Thank god Bucky now looked like he could defend himself (not like he couldn’t back in the day).

Steve took a deep breath and plopped down into an empty chair next to the stage. He waited. A few offers have been made. He declined every one of them. His mind was still a mess and his palms got sweatier as he eyed the side entrance and waited for Bucky to appear.

But Bucky never did. The dancers who went after Bucky had already came down to make their rounds. It was 3am and the club was closing. Steve felt so lost. Did he really miss Bucky so much that he imagined his face on someone else?

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face and stood up, tears threatening to leave his eyes. Seeing-imagining Bucky had taken such an emotional toll on him that it felt like the world and more was pressing down harshly on his shoulders.

Steve slowly walked out of the bar, his wallet heavy in his pocket, a reminder that he didn’t get what he came for. He climbed in his bike, and drove around the city, looking at the twinkling lights of buildings, then watching the sun rise from the top of an apartment building. He was looking but he wasn’t seeing, no. He was appreciating but he wasn’t enjoying.

It was all secondary to him. His brain was filled with snippets of Bucky smiling, laughing, crying. Anything that reminded Steve of better days, before the war, during the war. Definitely not after the war, and definitely not now, where he didn’t know if he was going crazy or it it was Bucky and if it was how could he still be alive? Why now?

*

Steve was 17.

Bucky was 20.

Steve spent his whole life then insecure. What if he wasn’t good enough? What if he wasn’t what Bucky needed?

It was Tuesday and Bucky was waiting down at the docks. Steve had cooked potato soup and was sketching a silhouette of him and Bucky standing in front of a house, sunlight shining down on them, while he was waiting for Bucky.

It was 5:30. Bucky was usually home by now. Did he work a late day at the docks again? Did he miss when Bucky told him because he was too busy caught up in smiling at Bucky’s face?

It was 6:00 and Bucky was still not home. Steve worried, pacing around the apartment, breaths coming at irregular intervals. He forced himself to cool down and sat on a piece of fabric laying on the floor. They would sometimes sit together on it, Bucky lightly dozing as Steve drew him.

Steve was getting worried. Did something happen to Bucky and they couldn’t get him because Bucky and Steve didn’t have a phone? Was Bucky playing him?

That singular thought went wild in his head. It buzzed around and as it bounced against the walls of his skull, it multiplied. Over and over the process went, until Steve was filled with so much anger and sadness that he only realized that Bucky had gotten home when Bucky started shaking his shoulders lightly, repeating Steve’s name with an uncertainty he had never heard in Bucky’s voice before.

“Stevie! Sweetheart! Are you okay? Tell me what’s wrong. How can I help? Steve!” Bucky’s shaking became even more vigorous, anxiousness tingeing his voice.

Steve left his head and came back, defenses immediately rising, standing up quickly from his position on the floor, head tingling and vision swimming. It took a while, but he adjusted, Bucky just waited patiently.

“Why are you late?”

“Went to pick up some groceries, Stevie, got my pay today.” Bucky said as he pointed to two paper bags lying on the floor, vegetables spilling out from one of them.

Steve was so relieved he had to close his eyes and recoup, collecting his shattered heart piece by piece, intertwining them with Bucky’s yet again. His dark thoughts left his mind, though some stubbornly lingered. He’ll tell Bucky about it and Bucky would take care of them, as always.

-

After dinner, after a quick shower, they lay in bed, Steve’s head pillowed on Bucky’s chest, legs tangling together as Steve held on to Bucky tight, like he was a sticker and Bucky was paper. You could never pull them apart without some piece of each other coming off of them.

Steve had told Bucky everything, and Bucky had choked on his soup, eyes clouding with hurt at the thought of Steve not trusting him, not even a little bit. Bucky didn’t get it, but it was Steve’s own insecurities, not Bucky’s loyalty towards him.

Bucky was running his hands through Steve’s hair, breathing even. His chest stuttered and Steve knew that he was getting ready to speak.

“Stevie, baby, you do know that I love you?” Bucky’s hand in Steve’s hair stilled as he pulled Steve’s head to face him, searching deep in Steve’s eyes for the answer. Steve nodded shyly, pecking Bucky’s lips softly.

“I love you, I do. You have to know that. Feel like I’m going out of my mind when I’m not with you, Stevie. It hurts so bad, all I ever want to do is turn back around and come straight back to you. It’s always just been you, sweetheart, you’re all it’ll ever be. I was born to love you, and I’ll die loving you. Till the end of the line, Stevie,” Bucky said with all the earnestness in his heart (Steve could hear it), giving Steve a tight squeeze.

Steve blushed as his eyes filled with tears. He turned his head away so Bucky couldn’t see them. Steve could never be as good with words as Bucky was, he was better with a pencil and a paper. So he just settled with, “Love you back, Buck.”, trying to convey the love in his heart to Bucky with those few words.

Steve slept well that night, held tight in Bucky’s arms. Bucky took care of everything as he always would.

*

With that memory fresh and playing in Steve’s mind, he slept on the roof, under the rising sun and the increasing loudness of traffic below the apartment building.

-

Bucky came out of his head when an incessant banging got louder and louder.

“James! JAMES! You better get your ass to the door right now before I destroy it. I swear, I have a hammer!” Mina’s voice travelled through the front door to the bedroom.

Bucky slowly uncurled from his curled up position, frown and pout in place when he heard the hammer slamming against the doorknob. He’d had to replace 4 of those since he worked at the club. He slouched towards the door, eyes bleary and thoughts all over the place.

Bucky wrenched the door open with his metal hand, flesh hand on his hips.

“What.” Bucky deadpanned.

“Get yourself clean. We’re going to the beach.” Mina said as she walked in, setting her handbag on the couch and carefully placing her hammer in it. She then headed towards Bucky’s room and opened his closet.

“Choose a t-shirt, not one of those goddamn longsleeves that’ll give you a heatstroke once you step out. And also a pair of shorts. Slippers too.”

“I’m not going. You know I’m not in the right state of mind right now.” Bucky sat on the bed, heaving out a sigh.

“And how are you gonna leave the state if you don’t go out? It’s a beach. It’s open, there are secluded spots. Now go, before I take the hammer to your ass.”

Bucky huffed and stomped to the shower, annoyed that Mina got to him the way she always did.

He headed into the shower and his frown cleared, leaving a happy grin in its wake. He was feeling better already. Mina was amazing and the fact that she didn’t let him rot in his mind alone was great. It felt so amazing to know that there was someone in the world that cared about him. He would hold her close to his heart and never let go.

When he went back into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, he caught Mina looking at a framed picture on his bedside table.

_Shit._

_Shit shit shit shit shit._

It was a picture of him and Steve, taken by Winifred, when he was 18 and Steve was turning 16. It was the day before Steve’s birthday and the Barnes’ and Rogers’ decided to go to the park to have an early start to celebrate Steve’s and America’s day.

Bucky had lifted Steve above his head, smiling with so much love in his eyes that even an amateur photographer like his mom captured him. Steve’s limbs were flailing and though he had a frown on, there was a smile tickling the corners of his mouth. Sarah and Becca were in the background, prepping their mat for a picnic.

Bucky couldn’t remember much of what happened that day but he knew that Steve was being a little shit, something about hats and sweets (weird combination, he still couldn’t figure out why Steve had hats and sweets in the same sentence).

He felt his heart pull. Steve was Captain America now and Bucky had no interest in seeking him. He didn’t want to taint Steve’s life with his own. He obsessed over any news about Captain America and always tried to catch live telecasts of the Avengers avenging. If he couldn’t he would just watch it on YouTube after.

Bucky still loved Steve. With all his heart. He would give _everything_ to give him one more hug, one more kiss, one more conversation. But not when he was like that. Steve’s goodness didn’t deserve it. Bucky knew it was hard on Steve, Steve loved him too, after all. He didn’t even know Bucky was alive. It must’ve been so hard on him when he just came out of the ice. Just yesterday the world was this way and the next day, everything was different. At least when Bucky could see the changed whenever he came out of cryo. Not that he remembers much. All he knew was that it was gradual, then came the chance for him to escape and he took it.

“Are you done staring into space?” Mina demanded, seemingly unperturbed and not curious at all about seeing the old Bucky with a really skinny boy. It was almost like she never even saw it.

Bucky huffed and turned to his closet, picking a black t-shirt and a pair of jogger shorts. He slipped on a sleeve over his metal and and made sure there wasn’t a slip of space where metal could be seen. He was ready to go when Mina stopped him and made him apply a thick layer of sunscreen, mumbling something about crusty white boys.

It was great to go outside and relax, just walking, with no destination in mind. The crashing of waves and the soft breeze at the beach made him feel the most relaxed he had in ages. He had Mina to thank for that.


	8. how dark does it really get? (as dark as a filler chapter can get)

Steve went back to the strip club obsessively. Every single fucking day. As the days went by, he got more and more convinced that his eyes were just playing tricks on him and that he imagined it all up.

That was, until the second week he went back to the club and saw Bucky again, but this time he was on stage with several other people, sweaty bodies writhing against each other. Soon enough the set was over and Steve was overwhelmed again. He did not let his eyes wander from Bucky’s form. A few minutes after Bucky went backstage, he came out, wearing nothing but a pair of tight boxers. He sat and watched as Bucky grinded against another man. That familiar possessive feeling came back, aching with the need to pull Bucky into his arms and tell the world that Bucky was his to protect.

Steve was sweating and his heart was pumping, echoing loudly in his chest. His left ear felt blocked, and his vision was a little blurry despite him blinking a few times to clear his eyes. When Bucky finished his lap dance, Steve shot up from his seat. This was his chance. His one chance. And he was going to take it and never let go.

When he was close enough to Bucky, he took Bucky in. Bucky’s soft skin, the light blush on his cheeks, the muscles on his body, hard and healthy. Bucky was healthy, and Bucky was smiling. Steve had never felt this calm in his entire time on Earth without Bucky by his side.

Holy shit Steve was actually gonna do this. His brain couldn’t catch up, every nerve on his body was focused on one thing. Bucky. He felt zings running up and down his arms. He let out a soft, “Bucky?”, without really meaning to. it just slipped out.

Steve didn’t expect Bucky to hear him but apparently he did. Bucky’s head shot up, and he whirled around and when he saw Steve, blood drained from his face.

The world silenced around Steve and all he could think was _Bucky Bucky Bucky._ All previous thoughts about him being a look alike vanished. This was definitely Bucky. (If him responding to his name didn’t give it away already.)

“I….. I- Buck- I.. I thought you were dead.” Steve’s bottom lip quivered as his brain chose this exact moment to take it all in. This was James Buchanan Barnes, Steve’s childhood best friend from 1930s. Steve saw him fall from the train. Remembered crying for the whole night afterwards. _Stupid stupid stupid_ why didn’t he try to save Bucky? He remembered taking the chance when he was in the Valkyrie, having only thoughts of joining Bucky, of promising Bucky that he’d be there soon and to wait up for him, it’ll only take a few minutes. Remembered when he let the plane crash, the way his heart was pushing it’s way out of his throat, then an overwhelming sense of bliss as the cold enveloped him and his last thought was of Bucky’s smiling face, waiting for Steve to join him.

Steve broke down. He started sobbing. Right in the middle of the fucking club. He whimpered "Bucky” every few sobs, entire body shaking with the enormity of it all. His heart was too confused, couldn't take it all in. He retreated from his mind, let himself go on autopilot, sobs still wracking through his body. He felt arms wrap around him and he wrapped his arms right back.

“C’mon Stevie, let’s go back to my place. We’re gonna have a long talk.”


	9. How dark does it really get? (just skimming the surface of a dark abyss)

Bucky felt…. Strangely empty. Seeing Steve in real life, not on television screens or newspapers, was different. He was different from the Steve he knew back in the war. Steve then was more… angry. Maybe Steve was still angry, he could've just gotten better at hiding it, is all.

They were both sitting cross legged on the floor of Bucky’s apartment. Bucky held both of Steve’s hands in his. They were stone cold. Shaking. Always was warm. Even back when he was skinny, the palm of his hands were always warm. Not now. He couldn’t imagine what Steve must be feeling, not knowing that Bucky’d been alive all this time.

“Wh-why are you here? How? I saw you-“ Steve’s voice cracked as he struggled to form words, meaningless against the fact that _Bucky_ was here, _living_ and _breathing_ and definitely _alive_.

Bucky had thought about this moment many times. He tried not to think about Steve though, it was hard, but he tried. He imagined he would’ve finally gotten the courage, ready to let Steve know that he was alive. Except. It wouldn’t have been this abrupt. God, he was worried Steve’s heart couldn’t take it. Steve had always been weak. But never on the outside. He was quick to take words to his tiny quivering heart, would overturn rocks trying to find hidden meanings to praises sent toward him, wondering if they were mocking.

He imagined leaving Steve tiny clues, gradually, until Steve’s stubborn blonde head caught up with it. He imagined that he would’ve been ready to unload everything to Steve, but not the parts that caused his head to hurt just thinking about it. He would tell Steve the terrors, his coping mechanisms, his breakdowns, how his brain sometimes felt as if someone was poking it with a needle.

But he wasn’t ready yet. Bucky was still in a dark place, a place where Steve shouldn’t know existed. Because Bucky loved Steve, always have, and he would never want Steve hurting for him, because of him.

“Steve. I want you to know,” Bucky’s voice wobbled as he brought his head closer to Steve’s, those blue eyes went so deep, sparkling pools of sky blue watercolour, inconsistent.

“I want you to know,” Bucky tried again, “that I love you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I need you to know now, Steve, that one day I’ll tell you all of it. All that has happened to me. But I’m not ready yet. I’m sorry. I-I’m damaged still. I wanna be in a place where I can tell you everything that happened, when I’m ready. When my head rights itself. Okay Steve?”

Steve’s eyes were red rimmed, his lips were bright red, and his cheeks were rosy, tears adding a shine to them. Steve was so beautiful, an ethereal being of stubbornness, and a knack for fighting for rights. Bucky’s heart ached, for not giving Steve what he wanted.

Steve shook his head, “But Bucky, how?”

Bucky had never seen Steve this lost his entire life. When Bucky first told Steve ‘I love you’, Steve got the same look in his eyes but it was 10 times what it was now.

Bucky decided to relent and give Steve a taste of what Steve wanted. Bucky could never deny Steve of anything, not when he was looking so lost and confused and was focusing those wide blue eyes on him.

“When I- when I fell, Hydra took me in. They made me do some really bad stuff Steve, I’m sorry.”

“What kinda bad stuff?”

“They kept me frozen when I wasn’t doing the bad stuff for them so I only aged when I was awake. “

“What kinda bad stuff?”

“The food they gave me. I don’t even think you can call it food. Sometimes they gave me a vegetable smoothie and they made it cold with the snow they found outside. I couldn’t eat hot stuff because that would upset my body temperature. It was shit.”

“What kinda bad stuff?”

“I was cold all the time.”

“What kinda bad stuff?”

Bucky sighed, knowing that Steve would never give up until he got what he wanted.

“I murdered lots of people Steve, and I don’t even remember who some of them were.” Bucky whispered with anguish, eyes shining with unshed tears. He shifted away, Steve wouldn’t wanna be close to someone who had done such despicable things, especially with so much blood on his hands.

Steve shifted closer to Bucky and Bucky inched away. It was repeated again until Steve couldn’t stand it and held on tightly onto Bucky’s wrist, securing him in place. Bucky’s brain short-circuited, this touch, it was so familiar. Steve used to do that when Bucky was on one of his angry rants, to remind him not to get too carried away. Bucky physically melted and he felt all the tension in his bones seep out, leaving through the contact point between him and Steve.

Bucky felt sick to his stomach the longer Steve kept silent. Steve obviously didn’t want him anymore and was thinking of a way to break it gently to him. Either way, he was doomed. But maybe…. Just maybe… Steve would love him like he did before?

“Bucky, I…. I need some time to process all of this. Do you think I could stay here while I think about it? I just wanna be near you still.” Steve looked down at Bucky with wide eyes, a whirlwind behind already stormy seas, and Bucky’s heart broke all over again. Bucky needed to get away, to be alone, but since Steve wanted him in close proximity and he could never deny Steve of anything. Anything Steve wanted, needed, it would all be his.

“I’ll just be,” Bucky gestured in the general direction of his room, movements limited by Steve’s wrist holding, “there. Knock or shout or whatever.”

Bucky scurried away from Steve after pulling his hands free from Steve’s grasp, which tightened a little before letting go completely. He knew he was a coward, he should be beside Steve, giving the blonde as much contact as he needed. But he wasn't strong enough now, it was the end of the week and his mental capacity was close to being used up.

Bucky closed the door gently and leaped onto his bed, curling up into a ball under the covers. He forced himself into The Piece Of Mind, all thoughts disappearing. Even those that knew that whatever Steve had to say to him later would definitely change him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme know if yall spot any mistakes xoxo


	10. How dark does it really get? (If light travelled at the speed of Steve Rogers' brain)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short, very filler.  
> and also Steve is a mess. look at the word vomit in his brain seriously.

Shit Shit Shit, Steve’s head wasn’t working and what the fuck was the serum for if it couldn’t help his brain work as fast as it usually did when he _wasn’t_ panicking or finding out that his dead love of his life was actually _alive_ and was about the same age as he was?? Both in the ice and physically.

Like, where the fuck did that come from. Honestly, Steve was feeling too many things at once to actually feel something. It had been this way since he saw Bucky at the club.

Steve could feel the blood flowing in his veins and his _teeth_ started tingling. Seriously, now was not the time for his body to start acting up. Steve dropped his back onto the floor, focusing on how the floor’s edges and shifts pressed up against his skin, and how he could feel almost all of it. He slammed his left forearm against his eye, wondering how the fuck he ended up in a situation like this.

An idea struck him and he got up, the familiar feeling of anticipation and excitement rolling around in his stomach.

Steve started to move furniture, the coffee table, two inches to the left. Stack of magazines in the corner of the room, two inches to the right. Numerous potted plants, two inches to the right. A box of….. cloth things? Two inches to the left.

He knew that what he was doing was nonsensical, maybe even a little hysterical given the current situation and the wide grin on his face. He thought better when he was moving, even thought he wasn’t really….. thinking. Steve knew he didn’t really make a lot of sense most of the time. He was just good at inserting huge words into sentences and making them sound good even though most of them had no real connection to anything at all.

After successfully moving everything that he could lift (which was basically _everything_ ), he dusted his hands on his shirt, then surveyed the room. Everything looked-surprisingly normal but if you looked closely, it was a little off. He was sure that Bucky would start bumping into things the second he stepped into the room.

Steve's stomach let out a loud growl. He thought about it for a moment then headed into Bucky’s kitchen, and cursed himself when his shin knocked against the sharp edge of the coffee table.

Steve didn’t like to touch stuff without peoples’ permission but he was, like, starving. He skipped lunch and now questions all the choices he has ever made in his life. He thought he could pick something up on the way back home from the stripclub. He obviously wasn’t expecting it to go so….. fruitfully.

He opened some cabinets and grabbed a pack of biscuits. He took a mug that looked like it hadn’t been used much and filled it up with water. It wasn’t like he was gonna start cooking in Bucky’s kitchen. Minimalism was the way to go. Even though it didn’t exactly sound right in this context.

He munched on his biscuits as his brain went into auto pilot overdrive.It was when he was thinking, but wasn’t aware of what was going on in his head, even though, technically, it _was_ all in his head.

Steve had murdered lots of people, all of his own free will. (They were all bad stinking rotten people though.) Bucky murdered people too, but he didn’t even know he was doing it.

Steve smiled bitterly to himself, wondering how they turned out like this. A pair of Brooklyn boys, from the 90s to the twenty first century, still looking young, but lord knows the things they’ve done. It seemed as if no matter how far they were from each other, no communication whatsoever, they both ended up doing the same things.

What were the odds that two best friends would still be physically 30, but mentally and –truly- a hundred years old? It was heartening, yet disconcerting, that it was as if someone was determined to make Steve and Bucky live a life as _Steve and Bucky_. Apart sometimes, but never for long. They would always find a way back to each other in the end. Like now.

It was then that Steve made up his mind. He had to know what happened to Bucky. And when he found out who did things to hurt him, they would _pay_ for what they’ve done. Because Bucky was still James Buchanan Barnes and Steve swore to himself at 15 that no one would get to hurt James Buchanan Barnes because Steve would protect him till his very last breath.


	11. How dark does it really get? (they find each other again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took so long to update and this chapter is shit i deserve all the broccoli thrown at me

“Get settled, you’re about to listen to my life story.” Bucky said while looking straight in Steve’s eyes, arms crossed over his chest, a cold mask put up.

Steve couldn’t really do much to reply, he was too overwhelmed, nervous and scared of what was about to come out of Bucky’s mouth but also kind of happy that he was opening up.

“You probably wanna hear everything right from the start. But, shit, just- Steve, it gets really bad okay? If you wanna stop, just let me know.”

“Bucky, Bucky, if anything, you should be the one telling me if you can’t handle reliving everything again. You really don’t have to tell me _everything_ if you’re uncomfortable okay? Bucky promise me.” Steve held out his pinky finger and watching Bucky eye it for a few moments before interlocking his pinky finger with Steve. He huffed out what Steve thought was a laugh and that was all Steve needed to feel calmer. Bucky’s happiness has and always will be Steve’s top priority.

“I really don’t remember falling but I do remember them dragging me through the snow and how my arm had this biting feeling but then halfway through it went numb. I remember the sounds of bone against metal. They were trying to saw my arm off. I remember going in and out of consciousness, never out of the table, always on the fucking table. I don’t even remember eating. Maybe they just pumped sugar in my blood or some shit. I remember them trying to fit different arms on me. You know what the first one looked like?” Bucky gave a bitter laugh before continuing, “it was fucking made out of wood and metal. It was so fucking ugly it didn’t even look like an arm! It was literally a metal rod with wooden claws sticking out at the end. Their dead ass brains probably took the idea from a broomstick.”

Bucky told Steve about the arms, the operations, how they wiped his memory from the start. The literal start. His earliest memories were gone first. He remembered waking up wondering who the fuck Becca was and why she was living in _his_ home. He never remembered, until he escaped and after one of those excruciating headaches, he _remembered._

Bucky told Steve about how they hired someone to act like they cared about Bucky. It was his ‘reward’ at the end of the day, to spend time with them. He remembered over hearing his person talking to a personnel, how Bucky had ‘shit for brains’, ‘the arm is disgusting when he touches me with it my skin just _crawls_ ’ and  ‘anyone who ever loved him before was wrong’ . It hurt Bucky’s heart because he loved his person. So very much.  He gave him the best parts of the bento that he received every night, made sure said person was warm in his cage, even stole things when he was out on missions that he knew made said person happy. Bucky was fucking stupid was what he was. The next day his ‘reward’ came in, he killed him. What’s another person’s blood when he already has so many on his hands?

It took a few hours to unload everything on Steve and by the end of it, both Steve and Bucky were wet eyed.

“Oh, Bucky. I should’ve went down to look for you again, I’m sor-“ Steve sobbed, kneeling in front of Bucky, hands tightly holding his.

“Don’t do this Steve, shut your fucking ass up right now.”

Steve stayed silent, hands gripping even tighter.

They stayed that way for a long time, just being, soaking up each others’ presence again.


	12. How dark does it really get? (Sunshine! With minimal passing clouds)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if the grammar and tenses here really suck (like me)

It was Thursday and Bucky had finished his shift at the store, thankfully without running into disgusting people. Steve was coming over and cooking dinner for the both of them. And Bucky was feeling hella (he learnt that from a group of people in the line for his counter and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, so he’s taking it for a test drive) excited. It had been 2 weeks since he saw Steve because of a top secret mission, Steve wasn’t even allowed to tell Bucky the country he was going to for fucks sake. And two months since he told his life story to Steve.

Bucky had also found so many new quirks Steve had. It was kind of cute, actually. Back in the fucking day, Steve used to touch the tips of his toes together when he was nervous, but now, he widens his eyes a little and clenches his fists against the bottom of his shirt, holding the two fists together. And where he used to pull his fringe back gently with the tips of his bony fingers, he now runs his fingers through his fucking hair and it makes Bucky’s knees weak. The most adorable quirk ever is how Steve curls up in this tight ball when he sleeps and nuzzles his knees when he sleeps. Who knew Captain America was this flexible? Honestly Bucky thinks Steve would be a _star_ in the stripper scene.

It was still hard for Bucky, frequent nightmares and insufficient sleep, but the panics had gone since Steve came around.  Not _gone_ , to be exact, more like they had migrated to somewhere that wasn’t so prominent in his body. It was a good feeling. But his headaches were becoming more and more frequent though. Bucky was afraid that one of those episodes would occur when Steve was hanging around. A month ago Bucky felt the beginnings of the fucking  murderous headache coming on while Steve was over and he chased Steve out, giving out the excuse that he had a bright and early shift at cashiering the next day. (It was Tuesday. Wednesdays are for grocery and workout. Thank fuck Steve didn’t know Bucky’s lifestyle enough to notice that flaw yet.) He spent the next 3 hours breaking out in cold sweat and breathing vapor prints against the floors.

Bucky heard Steve knock his signature masculine I Am The Man knock and rushed to open the door. He was greeted by Steve carrying 3 _recycled_ bags (because Steve Rogers loves the environment and global warming is not a hoax. Fuck Donald Trump) and sporting a beard. _A beard._ A goddamn fucking beard on his perfect fucking face and it made an even perfecter combination. This is not the time for proper English right now. Bucky was in shock because not only did Steve Rogers have a beard, he was _tan._ Yup! That pasty white ass bread looking skin was no longer pasty looking. It was a shade of brown and Steve Rogers looked delicious and Bucky could just eat him for breakfast what the fuck.

“Um-? Letting me in anytime soon Buck? A picture lasts longer you know.”

“O-oh, y-yeah.” Bucky mumbled while stepping aside and letting Steve in.

“Is it the beard? Sam told me it looks good and Nat slapped my ass. Is it weird, do you think?”  Steve spoke while setting his ingredients neatly on the counter because Steve Rogers.

Bucky’s eyes immediately roved to Steve’s ass and he knew he was making a mistake. He knew that Steve’s ass was ripe as a fucking peach but those jeans he was wearing just made it as juicy as a watermelon. Mm-mm. Bucky would eat that ass any day.

“Nah, that beard looks fucking amazing on you, Rogers. So does that ass.” Bucky replied with a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Steve shot Bucky a death glare but the red darkening on the apples of his cheeks said it all.

“What’s dinner?” Bucky questioned while sidling up to Steve, watching him squeeze a lemon dry. Those _arms_.

“Baked grouper fish with lemon and butter. Steak. Mashed potatoes.” Bucky’s stomach growled at that thought, but he was hesitant because the Steve he remembered only knew how to cook was fucking boiled potatoes and canned vegetables that only needed heating up.

At Bucky’s silence, Steve sighed and grumbled, “Have a little faith you punk. I took learning classes when I woke up from the ice again because modern life is boring and everyone is obsessed with technology. It seemed like I was the only one who wasn’t. I make great food now…. I think.”

“Whatever you say, Rogers.”

“Wanna help me make food?”

And that’s how Bucky ended up using his metal arm to help Steve take out burning hot stuff from the oven and shield them both from the little evil flying droplets called oil. If Bucky added a little too much wine to the steak, nobody knew but he, himself and Bucky.

“So how was the mission? Did you get hurt? Were you being a reckless ass?” Bucky inquired through a mouthful of fish. That shit was delicious.

“Gained some intel, got rid of some bad guys. Took a shot to the calves but it’s all healed now. And no I was not a reckless ass. I was actually working really hard on not getting killed.” Steve all but rolled his eyes.

“Lemme see the shot.”

“Buck literally you cannot even see it now. It’s all healed. They got me shallow.” Steve huffed, shoving a piece of steak in his mouth.

“Lemme see it. I wanna see it.”

“I don’t even know where it is. It’s _that_ healed.”

“I’ll see it, you don’t hafta.”

“We’re having dinner Buck, no legs.”

“I’d wanna see your legs any time of the day, sweetheart.”

That distracted Steve enough for him to freeze for a moment and Bucky let the blush stain those cheeks and his heart to fill up with content before ducking under the table and pulling Steve’s jeans up.

“Which leg?”

“Buck! What are you doing!” Steve struggled, trying to get his legs out of Bucky’s grip.

“Which leggggg?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. I don’t fucking recall!”

“Yes you do. Now tell me which leg.”

All at once Steve stopped struggling and mumbled out a ‘right’.  Score one for Bucky for wearing Steve down. Bucky felt the skin of the right calf for any bump and he _found_ one. Upon clearer inspection, there was a small scar and that did not seem like a shallow shot at all. That one _hurt._

“Steve Steve Steve. What am I going to do with you and your lying ass huh? “

“Nothing?” Steve all but squeaked.

“Like hell.” Bucky spat out before attacking Steve under the knees with his wriggly fingers because Captain America really was ticklish there. Steve jerked his legs up and his knees went knocking onto the underside of the table, causing him to curse. Bucky muffled a laugh even though he really wanted to cackle but he was still learning to be himself again and decided he wasn’t there yet.

The tickling match (with Bucky leading the upperhand with like 99%) ended when Steve pushed and jerked at the same time, causing Bucky to fly all the way across the table and crashing into the cupboards.  That ended in a laughing fit but Bucky sobered up first because he still wasn’t there yet. Steve was red faced and had a  hand clutching his stomach, ass on the floor.  It was a beautiful sight.

“How long did it take to heal though?”


	13. How dark does it really get? (muted lights in a dark room)

“You guys are on in ten, babe.”

Bucky was gonna perform a paired routine with a tiny little twink with blonde, with blue highlights, hair and a plump ass Bucky was ready to eat. It was only the second time they performed this routine. Practice, oh boy, practice sessions were a whole other thing.

Elijah, the twink, had on a schoolboy outfit and Bucky in a maroon silk button up and black slacks. Teacher and student roleplay, taboo, but gets the crowd going.

Bucky followed Elijah to the wing of the stage, where there was a desk and only a desk. The lights melted to a pale pink and Bucky watched as Eli adjusted the mic on his shirt and kissed him on the cheeks while on his tippy toes before sauntering out and plopping his ass on the table. Bucky waited as soft music filled the room and Eli started fidgeting on the table, looking impatient, playing with his hair, adjusting his clothes. All part of the act of course.

Bucky strode on stage, an air of dominance, and all thoughts left his mind. He stood in front of Eli with his arms crossed, and Eli put on a face of nervousness, making a show of him biting his lip and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

Bucky pulled Eli off the table and he let out a squeak, sound reverberating out through the soft music. Slowly, he led Eli to the catwalk and stood behind him. He pulled the blonde tight against his body and thrusted against his ass, once, twice, thrice. The force of it causing some of Eli’s hair to flop down. Bucky heard the crowd make some noise.

Slowly, excruciatingly, he popped the buttons off Eli’s schoolboy shirt off, fingers trailing in its wake. He felt Eli’s body shiver beneath him, followed by a sharp exhale. The shirt slipped off Eli’s bony shoulders and Bucky kicked it away, sudden screams and shouts of people trying to grab the shirt for a souvenir as it floated down the stage.

Bucky ran a hand up and down Eli’s hardening dick, then squeezed it tight, before making quick work of belt and pulling it out. The pants were next, followed by his briefs. That left Bucky fully clothed and Eli a shaking, naked mess.  With a pat on the ass from Bucky, Eli went on his hands and knees, legs spread wide, blue butt plug on show. The crowd hooted. Bucky stood over him for a moment, then knelt beside him and squeezed Eli’s ass in his hands. He couldn’t help but tap the butt plug, igniting a moan from the twink.  He lifted his right hand, never his left, and brought it down on Eli’s ass hard. A moan. More spankings rained down, 2 to his left, 3 to his right. The moans turned to screams turned to whimpers. If Eli put his forehead on the floor, it would all stop. That was the signal. By the time Bucky was done, Eli’s ass was bright red and it looked so beautiful.

Bucky stood up and stripped, putting on a show for the audience, then kneeling back down and gyrated against Eli. He slowly moved his hands down Eli’s back and followed his arms until their hands were intertwined, body following closely. With Bucky enveloping Eli, their bodies moved together, in sync, arching backs, undulating hips. Bucky moved an arm to Eli’s throat and that was the signal to roll over, Eli lying on Bucky, Bucky lying on the floor. They both spread their legs, Bucky a shadow of Eli’s. Below, Bucky thrusted up, bringing Eli’s hips with him. With one hand still on his throat, Bucky’s hands travelled down the expanse of Eli’s stomach, to his crotch, rubbing his palm over the hard dick over and over.

With an arch, Eli brought himself up and turned over, warm hands on Bucky’s chest. He bounced up and down, twisted his hips this way and that, all over Bucky’s cock. The crowd went wild. Eli slowed to a stop, forehead against Bucky’s and the stage darkened.

-

Steve watched Bucky and the twink literally getting it on the stage. He felt a rip of jealousy but that was kind of overtaken by his rock hard cock. He stood up once the stage darkened, ambling to the door leading backstage, it was a little hard to walk with his dick hard as fucking titanium. He pressed a hand against his hard on, waiting for Bucky to come out.

After a few minutes that felt like years, Bucky rushed out, in an oversized shirt and jeans. Steve growled, too turned on for words. Bucky eyed him, then the tent in his pants, and let out a laugh, head thrown back. It was the most beautiful sight Steve had ever seen.


	14. How dark does it really get? (Like a dark room filled with the smell of sex)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut, pure smut. see you at the dark side.

They called a ride home, of course. Steve had the means and he really didn’t want someone recognizing him on public transport while he was…. In this state.

The entire ride was silent, with a squirmish Steve and Bucky looking out the window. They made their way slowly up to Bucky’s apartment once the driver dropped them off. Bucky headed straight for the bedroom because he wasn’t up for much talking and he had to clear his head. Steve’s arousal was _very_ obvious, but ….. It had been bugging him for a while now, he remembered having a crush on Steve, smiling at the little things that Steve does. But were they in a relationship? He didn’t have much information to run on and who knows if his brain just made it all up? Bucky knew for sure that he loved Steve, but did Steve feel the same way? Could he accept the things that Bucky have done? Is doing? Because Bucky knew that he wasn’t going into this with only a little of him. He was heading in full force, _everything_ with him. Steve had to accept everything about Bucky. The brunette knew that this was needed for him to be happy and satisfied.

He splashed cold water on his face and leaned against the sink for awhile before kicking himself mentally on the ass to stop hiding and go out to face Steve.

But once he stepped out of the bathroom, Steve was onto him. He was pushed against the wall, feeling Steve’s body heat, warming him up.

“Bucky… Fuck, you were so hot up there.” Steve breathed against the crook of Bucky’s neck.

“That’s sort of the point, Steve.” Bucky chuckled but it ended up being just a woosh of air. Breathing was getting a little bit difficult. He knew, deep down, that this was what he had been waiting for for years, decades.

Steve nudged his nose against Bucky’s making it clear what he was about to do. “Is this okay?” He murmured against Bucky’s lips, close enough to almost feel skin, but not yet.

Bucky let out a “yea” and Steve _attacked_. Passionately. Softly. Gently. Steve’s lips were soft, but had a bit of resistance to them. Bucky felt his lips pillowing Steve’s, and the moved in sync, mouths slotted against each other. They were feeling each other out. Slowly, Bucky stuck out the tip of his tongue to trace Steve’s bottom lip, groaning when Steve slowly opened up, like a flower. Bucky tentatively slipped his tongue into Steve’s mouth and another met his, entangling, sliding over each other and sweet baby jesus, Bucky was in _heaven_. Steve tasted like martinis and salt and it was intoxicating.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, feeling his back muscles tense up and loosen where he placed his hands. Slowly, after exploring Steve’s back, both hands met at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer still. Steve took Bucky’s tongue between his lips and sucked softly, and Bucky all but melted.

“If we’re doing this we’re doing it all day. I mean it.” Because it was 12am on Sunday and Bucky _needed_ it.

“Yea, yea, anything, Buck, me too.”

Steve wasn’t all that coherent and so was Bucky.

Bucky pulled Steve by the wrist into his bedroom, quickly undressing and stopping halfway to glare at Steve to get a move on and to stop staring at him. Steve had a huge dick. Like fucking 9 inches. And it was pale at the bottom, shrouded by light blonde hair, gradually getting redder at the tip. Steve’s dick just looked so…. _Angry._ Bucky was about 5 inches but he was thick, and looking at Steve’s face, that was probably a good thing.

Steve let out a low growl that had Bucky shaking in his fucking boots because that sound scared him and made him so fucking turned on at the same time. Steve knelt down in front of Bucky and swallowed Bucky whole. The brunette was so surprised that he hunched over, cradling Steve’s head against his groin. Steve’s only response was to suck harder and Bucky was _gone._

He came so hard in Steve’s mouth and he made a face before swallowing. Steve stood up and kissed Bucky, and it was weird tasting himself on somebody else.

His cock was satisfied but his ass wasn’t, so. Bucky climbed on the bed and dropped his chest to the mattress, reaching for the  lube at the bedside table. He quickly poured some on his fingers and spread his legs wide, circling a finger before slowly pushing it in. One became two until he felt fingers at his wrist, pulling his fingers out. Bucky gave a whimper at the loss of something in him, but I was quickly cut off when he felt Steve’s thick fingers circling his rim. Steve plunged two fingers in his hole and curled them, hitting his prostate. Bucky arched his back and let out something that sounded a lot like the horn of a ship. It was disgusting and embarrassing honestly.

“Are you ready for me now?” Steve whispered against his ear.

“Yes, oh god, from the fucking start. Put it in me!” Bucky wailed, sound trailing off to loud breathing when he felt Steve’s cockhead circling his rim. With some resistance, Steve pushed in and it felt like forever before Steve bottomed out. Steve pulled all the way out again and slowly pushed back in. He repeated this a few times before Bucky confirmed to himself that this was _torturous_.

“Steve I swear to fucking god if you don’t hurry the fuck up and fuck me properly I will break your dick. No matter how beautiful it is.”

Steve let out a breathless chuckle before ramming hard into Bucky, and pounding endlessly like he trying to fucking tenderize Bucky’s intestines. With every thrust Bucky slid up the bed a little more and soon his head was smushed against the headboard.

Uh uh uhs were all Bucky could let out and he heard Steve curse before warning that he was gonna come and at the first spurt of heat in Bucky’s ass, the brunette came too, pushing back against Steve at the process.

His orgasm lasted a long while but even after he came down from his high, Steve was still groaning and he was still _coming_. Bucky could feel Steve’s cum filling him up fuller and fuller and it was getting a bit uncomfortable. But it was fucking hot. Was this a one off thing or?

Unsure about what to do while Steve was still orgasming, he turned his head and giving a quizzical look, “Steve? W-“ But was cut off by a “Buck. Fuck you’re so hot, I feel so good.” Steve threw back his head and pushed into Bucky a little deeper, and Bucky felt warm liquid trailing down his thighs. Steve let out a shout as he finished orgasming and slowly pulled out. Once he was free, Bucky felt a whole lot of pressure gush out, dripping onto his legs and the sheets below.

“Fuck, Steve, do you always do that? Does it always last so long? So much?”

“Yea, I guess it’s a serum thing? I consulted Banner and he said I was overproducing, um, y’know, sperm. Which also explains why it’s always – ah, heavier than it used to be down there.” Steve replied while blushing, eyes looking anywhere but at Bucky.

“Oh shit. I want you to come in my mouth. Wanna swallow all of you. Will you let me do that, Stevie?” Bucky asked in his sultriest voice, looking up at Steve through his eyelashes.

“Yea, Buck. Anything you want babe.” Steve breathed out.

They went all night long, until the clock struck 12 again. Bucky came a total of 9 times, and Steve, 10. Turns out his cum gets lesser the more he orgasms but it was still largely more than what the normal person lets out. Bucky and the sheets were drowning in Steve’s cum and that was a tad bit disgusting but fuck, Steve was blissed out and happy so, whatever.


	15. How dark does it really get? (like a laughy smiley face)

Bucky came back from his cashiering job, feeling more tired than he had ever been since he ‘stopped’ being The Winter Soldier. The tiredness went bone deep, and it actually made Bucky feel better as it was a comfort, that he was capable of feeling tired. It made him less robot, more human. And human was good.

He peeped into his bedroom, seeing a rumpled mess and no Steve. Bucky didn’t hear further sounds from the bathroom and flopped on the couch, pouting a little. Questions started forming in his head, did Steve think this was a mistake after all? How the fuck was he going to find Steve now, that he had went and gotten himself a little attached? But that had never stopped Bucky before, like, he was  a world renowned spy/assassin after all, he can find anyone he wanted to god-

Bucky stopped his speeding train of thoughts when he saw a small yellow piece of paper stuck on the refrigerator door. How was it sticking to the door like that? Bucky knew he didn’t own any glue or tape because, really, when will people ever truly need those? He cautiously approached the flying floppy piece of paper, heart beating a little faster because there was a possibility that Steve left it there. When he was about a feet away from the fridge, he stretched and craned his neck to see what was written on the square piece of paper.

‘[718-346-7830](http://www.fakephonenumber.org/UnitedStates/phone_number/areacode/718346)

Steve, <3’

Bucky let out a breathe of relief, stretching his hand and pulling the sticky paper away, expecting some shit to go down. Nothing happened. He touched the sticky part with the pads of his right fingers, feeling the weird kind of plasticy glue that Steve obviously could not have made himself. Who carries around sticky paper around with them anyway?

The number means that Steve obviously still wanted to be contacted by Bucky but what mattered was if it was going to be a Good talk or a Bad talk. Besides, Bucky had a question that had been niggling at the back of his mind, absentmindedly popping up at random times of the day. It was a question that he had to ask soon, before further developments or …. stagnation, whatever.

Were he and Steve ever in a relationship that wasn’t just friendly, back in the day? Because he could see how much Steve cared for him and he was sure that normal best friends don’t have that deep level of tenderness and concern.

So he was curious. And when Bucky was curious he just had to know. Because it was important and Bucky wants answers.

So.

Bucky took a deep breath and dialed the number that Steve wrote on the sticky paper.

On the second ring, Steve picked up, and Bucky could hear a crisp voice singing about candy wrappers behind Steve’s “Hello?”

“Steve. I-“

“Bucky! You called! How’s it going? I mean, why did you leav- why weren’t you there when I woke up?”

“Oh. I had work, Steve.” Bucky explained with  a certain tenderness in his voice, heart warming at the thought that Steve had missed him. It was an amazing feeling. Bucky wanted to feel like this forever.

“How dumb of me! Of course you had work!”

“I do have something to ask, but-“

“You can ask me anything. Anything.”  Earnest Steve forever.

“Uh….”

Bucky was chickening out and he would _not_ have that. ‘You are a deadly assassin. Don’t be a fucking pussy over shit like that.’

“Uh… sticky paper..?” Bucky inquired, his brain was obviously not in tune with his mouth.

“Sticky paper? Hu- Oh! Sticky paper! You mean the yellow one that I left? Those are post its, Buck. Apparently it took a hell of a long time to come up with the idea. Didn’t exist back then. You like ‘em?”

“Yea, they’re pretty amazing. But, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask you.”

A beat of silence and a song change only got a soft “Ah.” from Steve.

A period of time went by and when Bucky had heard two verses and knew what the song was about (Hawaii), he knew he was taking too long.

“Uhm, wereweinarelationshipbefore?” Bucky rushed out, holding his breath after, anxious for Steve’s reply.

“Yea Buck, we were.  Took a hell of a lotta hiding and cover up.”

Bucky let out a breath and a sickening feeling rolled into his stomach like it was the fucking star of the show but that asshole wasn’t even invited.

“Do you still love me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll must think im crazy. Songs about candy wrappers???? Hawaii?? What!! But i promise they are good songs that make me ears cry with joy. And vocals are really crisp. They're by a band called summer salt which i love. [Driving to Hawaii is here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=peZaA_MigKg%20) and [Candy Wrappers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcPE4lo5Fic<br%20/>%20) is here   
> And also Bucky is as amazed by post its as i am, unless it's those that don't stick, in that case, no thanks.


	16. How dark does it really get? (sunflowers)

 

Bucky listened to that pause, he _understood_ that pause. He felt tears well up in his eyes, but Bucky Barnes didn’t cry. He wasn’t a crier. Bucky pulled on the hem of his shirt twice, looking down and blinking back tears, but one slipped out anyway. Bucky Barnes wasn’t a fucking crier. He ended the call and slumped down onto the floor, which he named The Despair Position, by the way.

It sucked. Life sucked. Why didn’t he die when he fell off the train? What the fuck kind of sin did he commit in his past life that he had to suffer so much now for? Sure, it was amazing that he was in the same fucking century as Steve fucking Rogers the man he now knew was really the love of his life. And he was once Steve’s whole life too, until he went and dropped off the side of the train. His heart hurt and his head hurt and his heart hurt even more. His let out little whimpers while his face was scrunched up in a grimace.

To think that he had a chance. Hah! What a fucking idiot.

Bucky heard the phone ring, it had to be Steve because why would Mina call him on a day he wasn’t stripping? He clenched his fists and clenched his eyes shut until he was wound up as tight as he could possibly be. If the phone didn’t stop ringing any time soon he would break.

_Breathe, Bucky. In, Out. Think of rain. Think of puppies. Think of sunshine and flowers._

The phone finally stopped ringing and he melted back to the puddle he was.

-

Two raps on the door, sounded strong. Shuffling of the feet, sounded nervous. Shadow was relatively still. Bucky sat up, he was analyzing and he normally analyzed faster than this, his skills were really deteriorating. He could put up a fight, or he could escape. Escape or fight? The shadow looked relatively big and the guy was holding something in his hands. Gun? Rifle? Fuck, he was taking too long to think.

“Buck? You in there?”

And Bucky relaxed, which Steve’s voice always does to him.  He immediately tensed up again because Steve was outside his door and he just literally told Bucky that he didn’t love him anymore and Bucky’s heart was still hurting. He forced himself to get up, mentally preparing himself, then swung the door open.

“Hey!” He started, desperate for Steve to not see him hurting, but was taken aback by the bright yellow sunflowers in Steve’s hands.

“Buck…. Can I come in?”

“Sure! Make youself at home!” Like they didn’t already have sex at this place. Like they didn't know each other for 2 decades and longer. 

Steve settled himself on the couch, on the left side. Bucky sat down nexto to him, wearing a curious look on his face. Oh, was he ready to hear what this bitch Rogers was gonna say to him. Who the fuck tells someone they don’t love them anymore, then comes straight to their house holding a bunch of flowers?

“Bucky, I think you got me wrong. I was just.. taken aback by that sudden question.”

“But… I understood that pause. I know that pause.”

“How could you know that pause when I’m the only one who could have ever given to you that pause?”

“I just knew, never doubt a spy, Rogers.”

Steve shook his head softly, smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

“Do you remember, why- how- these sunflowers?” Steve questioned with a hopeful gaze, eyes rounding.

Bucky felt his heart splinter to pieces because he hated disappointing people, especially his Stevie. He contemplated lying but then he wouldn’t get the significance and all this would be to moot. So he pursed his lips and shook his head slowly. He knew that if he looked up Steve would have the Hurt Puppy look on his face and nobody on this planet could stand being the cause of it.

“It was the first flower I ever learnt to draw, properly, not just doodles. I finally got the contouring and the shapes and the colours right, and I was so excited and proud. I ran all the way down the hall to find you, banging on your door and all that. Your mam told me you were out with your dad, and I remember feeling so disappointed but then she told me I could stay there and wait because you were coming back soon.” Steve smiled wistfully at that, precious, beautiful memories surfacing, bringing so much happiness into his life. Memories that Bucky was a part of, but didn’t have. It was gut wrenching, to hear a story he should have remembered clearly, dammit, but all he could do was listen and try to conjure images up in his mind.

“So I took to sitting on the floor, and I remembered asking your mam for a pair of scissors, because I wanted to cut it out and present it to you like a real flower. Because I loved you back then, too. Your mam told me it was the best looking flower she had ever seen and she helped me cut it out for you.”

Bucky’s heart warmed at the thought that his mother and Steve had moments between them that he wasn’t there for. That Steve wasn’t only his friend, but he was dear to everyone in the Barnes’ family.

“You came back crying, I remember. Your pa didn’t wanna get you those big lollipops because it wasn’t good for your health and you wanted one everyday, Buck. You argued that you were gonna drink it all off anyway, and it’ll leave your body. But your pa didn’t budge. I remember feeling sad because you were sad, too. So I gave you the flower cut out and you immediately stopped crying and started smiling like Bucky again.” Steve grabbed Bucky’s hands, and he was so _warm_.

“I knew then that I loved sunflowers. Because they made you happy. And at that time, playing and Happy Bucky was all I needed. So… sunflowers for smiles?”

Bucky tipped his head back and let out a laugh then, partly to hide the tears but mostly because that was the single most cutest and sweetest thing he had ever heard.

“Oh, Steve, you-“ Bucky couldn’t even complete that sentence because he was smiling too hard.

“I do, I do still love you. I’ll never stop. Watch me.” Steve was adamant, and oh boy, when he put on that voice Bucky knew shit was real.

 


	17. how dark does it really get? (yellow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i literally had this all written out and ready to post a month ago. then when i came back to post it the document went missing and i COULD NOT FIND IT DO YOU KNOW HOW MAD I WAS LITERALLY ALL MY NOTES AND EVERYTHNG FOR THIS FIC WERE IN IT FUCCCC. but anyway, it was probably because of a video i watched the previous day about the doll that inspired Chucky and you couldn't like take pictures / look at him without his permission or you'll have bad luck and FUCK YOUTUBE RECOMMENDATIONS. and so that was probably the bad things happening to me.

“Do you think we could, I don’t know, get to know each other? Again? With all the stuff that happ-“

“Yes! Took the words right out of my mouth!” And that, right there, was the first time Steve had heard excitement in Bucky’s voice since they fell. It was a really weird feeling.

Bucky and Steve were awkward cuddling on the couch, with Bucky’s right shoulder over Steve’s chest, Steve’s arm around his waist. Steve was feeling warm and fluttery inside; this was the best he had ever felt in like a decade.

“Do you wanna go on a date? We could have coffee at this coffee shop I love downtown.” Steve suggested, rubbing a thumb over the back of Bucky’s hands. It was so smooth, Steve was a Kim Kardashian crying meme.

“Sure. Tomorrow?” Again with the excitement, Steve really was a Kim Kardashian crying meme.

“Someone seems eager,” Steve teased as he shoved Bucky. And oh god, Bucky downright just fucking giggled. Steve pulled Bucky into him and squeezed really tight because Bucky was here now and he could.

“But yeah, tomorrow sounds really great! I’ll meet you at 1? It’s called Lola’s, I’ll text you the address.”

It’s date night (afternoon?) and Bucky is really having a crisis. He literally has 5 tops and 2 pairs of jeans. He knew he looked good in navy and maroon, so that left him with 4 tops and 2 pairs of jeans. Obviously he had to go with the jeans that looked better on him so that was settled. Because he was still a kid, a wrapped all 4 of the shirts up in a ball and closed his eyes. He rolled the call of tops a little and picked one. The Henley. Of course. He quickly slipped those on and tied his hair back into a bun at the nape of his neck. Wallet, keys, Converse and he was ready to go.

Taking any form of public transport irked him but Subways were the worst. He was uunderground, with no way out, just travelling through a hole in the ground, encased in nothing but metal. If he thought about it too much, he would worry himself into an anxiety attack, not what he wanted on date night.

He chose to take a cab, Steve was worth it. He arrived there a few minutes early, but surprise surprise, Steve was already there. He looked nervous, staring out of the window, fiddling with the cup in front of him. It was really endearing and it was more than Bucky could stand to continue letting Steve go on like that, save the guy some grief.

“Steeeeeeev.” Bucky whined as he settled into the chair opposite Steve.

Steve glanced up in surprise and honestly, a guy with supposedly super hearing wasn’t that super. Steve’s face melted into fondness and his mouth curled up into a soft smile. Bucky felt himself turn red (only a little though) at the look.

“Wanna order some food first?” Steve enquired, a little nervously, Bucky could feel.

“Yea, what’s good here?”

“The hamburgers are good, and so is the meat pie.”

“We could get them both and share?”

Steve agreed and placed their order, getting a coffee for Bucky that he said to trust him on. Bucky went along with it, he used to trust Steve with his life after all.

-

“So, what type of music do you listen to now?” They were both full and happy and the coffee really was good and now Steve wanted to know everything about Bucky.

“I still listen to music from back in the day. I’ve recently started listening to One Direction though, they’re pretty good.” They were, Bucky had scoffed at the idea of a boyband because they didn’t exist back then and also that sounded really awkward, but Minah totally changed his mind.

“One Direction suck! Their music sounds so artificial, Bucky please.” Steve replied with an exasperated sigh.

Bucky had had enough of this bullshit. One Direction were fucking great and if this vintage old white guy didn’t get that then he wasn’t good enough for him. Bucky made to move out of his seat, seeing what Steve would do if he really went and walked off because of a boyband.

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving because you obviously don’t have ears if you can’t appreciate good music. Do us all a favor and listen to their recent album, you jerk.”

“Buck….. you can’t be serious?” Upon seeing Bucky move further away, Steve held out both his hands, “Okay, I’ll listen to them. Please, Bucky, just.” Steve scrubbed a hand over his face, berating himself for ruining their first date ever.

“I was kidding, Stevie. Still love you.”

Steve flushed bright red at that, looking down with a small grin playing at his lips. He mumbled a, “love you too”, cheeks only getting redder with each passing moment.

“Hey, I saw a park on the way here, wanna have a walk?” Bucky needed to save Steve from the situation that he had put the blonde in because the dumbass was only gonna dig himself into a deeper hole and he was afraid of what might happen if Steve’s face got any redder.

They (Steve) paid for lunch and led Bucky out of the café. The stroll to the park was nice, filled with content silences and really loud obnoxious cars. But still, contentment.

They sat at the swings, people watching and just enjoying spending time with each other.

It was a good date, and when Bucky got home, he felt the lightest and the happiest he had ever felt in months. They had another date planned out for next week and it wasn’t a ‘date’ per say, they weren’t going out, just going to hang out in Steve’s floor at metal man’s skyscraper and cook Steve’s mom’s old recipes. It was gonna be good. He just hoped he wouldn’t meet any of the Avengers.


	18. How dark does it really get? (warm and fluttery)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i felt bad and my exams are finally over so!

It was stripper day. Again. Bucky was still perspiring from the show he just put on, The Soldier, of course. He put on his tighty whities, checked himself out and decided he looked good enough for the customers before heading out to the floor.

Sometimes he would space out when he was serving a customer, sometimes he was really into it. Today was a space out day. All he could think about was the date that he and Steve went on a few days prior. They had been sending each other messages ever since, just short checking ins to see how they were doing. Steve was out on a mission and he was due back tomorrow at 3am. Bucky was worrying. Maybe a little. Okay, alot. But don't blame him.

He spotted a customer eyeing him and strode towards him, raising an eyebrow to confirm that the guy wanted a dance. The guy gave a short nod in turn. He looked sleazy, honestly, but don’t they all? As long as he paid, it was all good.

“No touching, unless I say so.” Bucky stated as he bent down to sleazy guy’s ear, giving a tiny lick. He felt the guy nod and that was the queue to straddle the guy, gyrating his hips, crotch against crotch.  It was a repetitive movement, and his thoughts strayed to Steve again. He was so beautiful and he had changed so much, both of them had.

He felt the guy fidget and he switched positions, standing up, one leg curled around the guys neck, and thrusting his crotch into the guy’s face. This move was a favorite. The guy  _was_ enjoying it, happily nuzzling his face all over Bucky’s hard dick. Bucky barely felt it.

He rubbed his ass all over the guys’ crotch, felt the boner and almost giggled. It was kind of small, nothing compared to Steve. He felt the guy thrust into him and Bucky grabbed both of his hands and directed them to his ass. He was squeezed, then a slap, then squeezed again. He leaned back and wrapped both arms around the guys’ neck, then moaned the sultriest moan he could manage and jerked his hips a little. And that was the finale.

He slowly stood up, only to be pulled back, “Me, you, the bathroom?” Bucky kept from rolling his eyes.

“You know we don’t do that here.” Bucky replied, in the most gentle yet firm tone he could handle. He stuck his hands out for his tip, happy to see 2 twenty dollar bills. He blew the man a kiss and shoved the bills into a pocket in his underwear, heading towards the next customer.

-

Bucky got home at 4 in the morning, exhausted from the fake smiles he had to put on, but content with the money he made. He could now pay for the months’ rent and some higher end groceries.

He knew he was going to see Steve the next day, but he just wanted to make sure that Steve made it back home okay. He debated on whether to call or text Steve and decided to go for the text instead, in case Steve was already asleep.

_Hey! Just came back from the stripper joint. You back in one whole piece?_

He set his phone aside and went for a shower, he was glittery and sweaty and smelled nasty. When he came out, he saw that he had received  texts from Steve.

**Bone. Tired.**

**a whole piece but with some dents**

**will be good as new tomorrow dw**

_What are we making?_

_tomorrow?_

**Babies ;)**

**but fr maybe some chicken pie?**

**Deviled eggs :’)**

**Pancakes**

**With scrambled eggs :’))**

**CAKES**

_Steve. We’re cooking lunch. For the both of us. Steve pls._

_We can make cakes another day._

***rolling eyes emoji***

_Do you have the ingredients?_

**Whatever. Stark can get everything.**

_Wanna go grocery shopping before that!!_

**That’s so domestic im crying**

_Is that a yes_

**:’)) it’s a yes from me *slams bottom***

***button sorry**

_YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE_

_I WOULD LET YOU SLAM MY BOTTOM ANY DAY_

***slam into your bottom**

_STEVE_

Bucky snickered and then giggled. Then he giggled some more. Steve always had the ability to make him feel all warm and fluttery in 30 seconds. But he was getting tired (Steve relaxed him enough for him to be able to feel tired that easily. Bucky didn’t know if he was worried or elated. Whatever.) and Steve was too. So.

_GO TO SLEEP SO YOU’LL HAVE THE ENERGY TO DO IT TOMORROW GRANDPA_

**;)**

**lov u**

Bucky replied with the snoring zzz emoji and thought better of it because Steve went too long without hearing it from him, and if he was in Steve’s shoes he would probably need it, too, before sending a ‘love you back’ and going to sleep.


	19. How dark does it really get? (Like ambers from the kitchen stove's fire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i said watery instead of moist bc argh. no ragrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know cooking stuff don't @ me i tried

“Where do we get cheese sauce? What the hell is that? Melted cheese?” Bucky questioned, annoyed that this was the first recipe they were looking at and he already couldn’t find the ingredients. Stupid future and their weird supermarkets.

“We have to make that ourselves, Buck. Remember whe- The recipe for that is at the page behind.” Steve replied, glad to have saved himself from making Bucky feel bad because he couldn’t remember stuff.

“Well, see, I couldn’t have known that.” Bucky retorted in a huff, flipping the recipe page and landing on the cheese sauce one. He immediately walked away to find the ingredients for this ingredient that was apparently special enough that it had it’s own ingredients. He noticed Steve’s blunder, obviously, but he didn’t remember anything about cheese sauce, so he pushed that back because now was not the time to go to his dark place.

Bucky had waited for Steve outside the grocery store, a few minutes early. Steve greeted Bucky with a big wet kiss on the cheek, armed with recyclable bags and a few sheets of paper stapled together, which Bucky now knew was the recipe.

They finally got all the ingredients together for the 3 dishes they were making, after 2 hours of turning into wrong aisles and getting lost in the supermarket maze.

The ride back to the tower was relatively short, and Steve explained how they were going to cook each of the dishes. Bucky tried listening, he really did, but his attention span was always short and he was only focused on how excited and happy Steve looked to cook his mom’s dishes with Bucky. It was endearing, really.

-

“Bucky! I told you that you had to preheat the oven first! I don’t wanna spend more time waiting for it to get hot!” Steve huffed and pouted.

Bucky rolled his eyes and shoved the dish of loaf into the oven, hesitating before turning some knobs and deciding that he was right.

“You literally cannot do it like that. The oven has to heat.”

“See if I give a damn. A few minutes less in the oven couldn’t possibly change the dish that much!”

Steve rolled his eyes and moved on to making the next dish, which was his favorite, apple pudding.

This time, they worked together in sync, like it was routine. It was actually, they made it every month for both their families to enjoy. It was always a relaxing period of time for Steve, who finally had peace and quiet while doing something productive, with Bucky by his side. It was kind of a dance, they would switch roles and hip check each other occasionally. There was warmth coursing throughout his veins the entire time they were cooking together, and it only got stronger when they made the pudding.

It was so familiar Steve wanted to cry, and his eyes watered a little and he wanted to blame it on the onions, but realized he was cutting apples instead. He held on a little tighter to his knife and wondered of Bucky remembered them cooking this dish, because he seemed pretty at ease and there was much less misunderstanding than they did earlier.

Steve look in a deep breath, trying to be silent but Bucky heard it anyway. He looked over with a questioning gaze, and Steve couldn’t help but be honest, he could never lie to Bucky, and it was a good lesson to learn from. This was a happy memory, actually.

*

Steve hurried back from the store, holding the metal close to his chest, underneath his jacket. This toy was running out every second every where and people got into fights over those. It was one of those days that Steve just wanted to go home without any trouble, because it was close to Bucky’s 16th birthday and he didn’t want to upset him.

This gift was the most expensive Steve had ever bought, but Bucky deserved it. Steve felt kinda bad because he bought tit to make Bucky happy but also because it could maybe help his situation. The boysin school loved bullying Steve and because Bucky hung out with him, Bucky got a little bit of the shit too. The toy determined your cool factor and Steve thought that if bucky had one it would make them cooler and that would automatically make Steve cool too. Because he was Bucky’s best friend. But he wanted to make Bucky happy more. Maybe 80% of the reason he bought it.

Steve thought of where to hide the toy, below the bed was a bad idea because they sometimes wrestled on the floor and Bucky might spot it. The cupboard might be a good location, but what if they played hide and seek and Bucky hid there again? Though they haven’t played it since Steve was 10.

He could hide it in the drawer at the corner of the living room, but his art supplies were there and Buck liked to help fetch them for Steve.

The kitchen cabinet was the place that Steve settled on in the end, it was almost out of reach and they didn’t touch the kitchen because they were scared of almost setting the apartment on fire like they did 3 years ago. Besides, he only needed to hide it in there for 2 days.

-

“Steve, why are you acting all shifty? What did you do now?” Bucky inquired the minute Steve opened their apartment door. Steve held back a sigh, wondering how Bucky could always read him like a book.

“I didn’t do anything!” Steve defended, it was the truth, he didn’t do anything. He only bought something.

Bucky regarded him with suspicion, but thankfully gave up and walked over to Steve’s room, eager to start on their math homework, which was Bucky’s favourite subject, by the way. Steve thought Bucky was crazy because he couldn’t understand and do math for the fe of him.

-

Boy was he wrong when he thought the interrogation was over. Bucky asked twice more in the span of 15 minutes and Steve broke at Bucky’s stupid pleading face.

“You got the Buck Rogers ray gun???!! Steve this is the BEST gift ever. Christ!” Bucky exclaimed, eyes lit up and mouth curved into a wide smile. Steve knew this was 90% of the reason he got it, not 80%.

One of the main reasons Bucky loved the toy so much because it was both their names together and also it was made out of METAL. They both had outgrown toys but this was the one toy that brought it all back. It was just so cool.

Steve let out an ‘oof!’ when Bucky hit him with a bear hug tight enough for Steve to feel his bones creaking a little.

“It was supposed to be a surprise! Now you’ve went and ruined it!” Steve pouted, genuinely upset that Bucky found out too early.

*

“Just remembered something. Don’t worry about it.” Steve muttered, eager to get ot of Bucky’s ‘all seeing’ gaze.

Bucky didn’t look like he believed Steve for a second, but thankfully let it go.

-

“Ha! Who said a few minutes less in the oven wouldn’t make any difference?” Steve gloated when the loaf came out looking perfect but was a little watery on the inside.

“I didn’t say it wouldn’t! I said not much of a difference!” Bucky retorted… mad that Steve was, once again, right.

-

“Hi gents! I smelled food walking past your apartment, don’t mind me while I eat my dins here.”

Steve put his head in his hands, muttering curse words, this was his date for fucks sake.

“Firstly, you’re crashing my DATE. Secondly, get your own dinner!” Steve shouted, defeated because Barton and his _antics_.

“Yes I very clearly saw him,” Clint addressed Steve before sitting himself down on the dining table opposite Bucky “I’m Clint by the way. Very professional aimer person. I’m very good at aiming.” Clint greeted Bucky and stuck out his hand.

Bucky just glared at him until Clint dropped his hands. Steve saw the move before he did it, and he knew Clint was fucked. The date crasher moved his hand to nick something off Bucky’s plate, but Bucky was quicker and put out his metal arm to grab Clint’s wrist. Then Clint did something very unexpected. Or maybe expected, since he was a professional aimer and all. He grabbed a fork and threw it at Bucky’s fingers, and it dropped to the table with two ‘clink’s. The room fell quiet, Steve was fucking anxious. He didn’t know how Bucky would react. But Barton took the time for Bucky to recover to steal a piece of toast. What a bastard.

Bucky looked at Clint with a sneaky smile, and Clint looked right back with the same expression. Steve knew _then_ that he was fucked.


	20. How dark does it really get? (like the shadow from a flame)

After the unexpected interaction between Bucky and Clint, all three of them ate together in silence. It was comfortable, a boat floating on peaceful waters.

That was until Steve heard inaudible breathing turn harsh. He quickly looked up, and saw that Bucky was pale faced, chest heaving with deep breaths that looked painful. A deep worry settled over him and he rushed to Bucky’s side, anxiously looking over his body, praying that he wouldn’t see any blood. He didn’t. Steve was almost relieved but Bucky was spiraling really quickly, his face was getting paler by the second, eyes zoned out.

Steve looked behind him at Clint and saw the sharp shooter silently move out of his seat and head towards the door. Steve made a mental note to treat Clint better, glad that he understood.

“Buck?” Steve whispered, frantic and afraid, and moved his hands to grab Bucky but thought better of it.

“Hey, hey. You with me?” Steve cursed when all he got in reply was harsher breathing. He was contemplating bringing Bucky to the bedroom, a safeplace for Steve, would calm him down and maybe then he would know what to do.

His thoughts were cut off and replaced with more cursing when Bucky collapsed to the floor and even Steve’s fast reflexes wasn’t enough to catch the brunette before he curled up into a ball onto the floor.

“Shit! Bucky!” Steve was helpless, he didn’t know if Bucky would react badly to touch. He decided to do it anyway, what was the worse that could happen?

With a heavy stomach, Steve wrapped arms slowly around Bucky’s shoulders, only then noticing that Bucky had his head clutched tightly between his hands.

Steve didn’t know what was happening. Was Bucky’s thoughts hurting his head or did it really hurt or was it just instinct to curl into that position? Steve swallowed bile, feeling fucking useless because his heart was hurting and he didn’t know what to do.

“Bucky, please. I’m here. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” Steve assured Bucky in a comforting albeit shaky voice. He wasn’t even sure if Bucky could hear him. He wrapped his arms around Bucky even more tightly, holding onto his rock in such turmoil.

They stayed inthat position for a long, long time, Bucky was fucking tense, curling tighter into himself with each passing minute.

Steve let out a breath when Bucky, cold and shaking, relaxed suddenly, whimoering out a tiny, unsure, “Steve?”

Steve’s heart broke. He had never in his life heard Bucky so small and insecure and it broke him. It hurt like a million needles pierced him then retreated then repierced him again. Like someone was carving Bucky’s full name into his heart with a fucking fork.

“I’m here, Bucky. I’ll always be here. Always.” Steve quickly replied, scared that Bucky wuld slip away from him again if he replied a second too late.

“Hurts.” And there goes Steve’s sanity.

“Where? Is it your head? You gotta tell me Buck. You don’t hafta tell me your- your, what you were thinking, or not thinking, I don’t know. You gotta tell me your hurt. Please.” Steve rambled, voice pleading.

“Head. Hurts. Fee- Feel really bad.” Bucky stammered out, voice as breakable as a thin glass sheet, but beautiful as ever.

“I think… Stark and Banner may be able to help you? They’re the closest to us right now. If you’re willing to see someone. I mean. I trust them.” Steve suggested, not wanting to force Bucky into doing something he didn’t want to do, like what he had done for almost half of his life.

“Yea. I could- I could see them. Been a problem for a while, this head hurt.” Bucky let out a weak laugh. Steve couldn’t see the humour in this situation but if this would make Bucky feel better then so be it.

-

Going to the lab was a stifling affair. Bucky was stiff, almost robot like, and it broke Steve’s heart, a heavy sick feeling settling into his gut. He felt like he was going to puke. Steve knew thinking the worst was bad but he did it anyway. So many fucking what ifs and he clenched his fist so tight until it drew blood. Fuck.

“Shit! Put it out! Put it out!” Steve heard Tony fucking Stark yell once he stepped out of the lift. He saw Bucky startle beside him and immediately reached out to calm him down. Touch always managed to calm Bucky down, but he stopped when he was a fingertip away. He slowly drew his hand back, knowing it wouldn’t be such a good idea now. He was taking a chance just now, better that they were alone. But now Bucky was heightened from his episode and meeting people he didn’t know to trust.

“The sink is right next to you.” Steve heard Banner’s mellow voice, a hard edge to it. But not nearly there yet.

“What’s the sink gotta do with anything? Where’s the fucking extinguisher? Do we even have one here? Okay here’s the plan; you hulk out and smash this fire out, I’ll suit up. Copy? Copy.” Stark’s voice was taking on a huge chunk of panic, must be a big fire.

“Wait here Buck.” Steve told Bucky before running towards the lab for a better look. He cursed himself and Stark and Banner because. Because the fire was as big as a lighters flame. In the middle of a cluttered metal table.

He hit the glass of the lab, feeling satisfied when both the smart asses jumped up.

“Steve! Help put this fire out!” Stark shouted, looking crazed.

“Just put a wet cloth over it! I thought you guys were supposed to be smart!”

“No, you don’t understand, Steve. We could _die_ here. The building could collapse!” Banner was really anxious now, his face was getting red and he kept running his hands through his hair.

“I might have a more serious situation here than a mini flame.” Steve rolled his eyes, hands on his hips.

“I just had the best idea ever. Let’s carbon dioxide that shit.” Stark completely ignored Steve, looking smug.

“Tony. It isn’t a literal fire. You know that. You made that.”

“Argh! Fine! Prevention is better than cure anyways.” And before Steve could begin to try understanding what he just meant, Stark cupped a beaker over the fire. Steve blinked. The fire poofed out and filled the entire beaker. _Science_. Steve was sure fire wasn’t supposed to do that. But whatever. Problem solved.

“Can we go see Bucky now? This is serious.” Steve kind of demanded, opening the door to the lab to usher the two geniuses out.

“Bucky? Bucky! Bucky the best friend from when people were speaking weird English?” Stark inquired in a way only he could.

“Yes. This is serious. He had an episode, he said that his head hurts.” Steve explained, leading them to where he left Bucky, and saw him sitting against the wall, head tilted back and legs sprawled out in front of him. His hands were knotted on his lap.

“My head hurts and it dug up a new memory.” Bucky stated, not moving from his position.

“This, really, isn’t our forte. Let me call Dr. Cho. You know her, from Back When,” he nodded at Steve, then turned back to Bucky, “1 to 10?”

“8.” Bucky grunted out and cringed, a hand moving to cradle his head.

“Shit.” Steve muttered under his breath. Because Steve knew how tolerant Bucky was to pain. When he broke his leg working at the docks, it was only a 5. And after what Bucky had told him, he was sure the brunette had an even higher tolerance to pain.

“Dr. Cho will be here in a few hours. We’ll just be fixing the fire now.” Tony said as soon as he hung up the call, hurrying back to the lab, Bruce in tow.

“We’ll be at my floor!” Steve shouted to their retreating backs. He didn’t trust staying here with Bucky when he saw what the special fire had done. He didn’t like moving Bucky around so much when he was in pain but he had to take one over the other.

When they reached their- his floor, he led Bucky to his fluffy bed and pillows and soft blanket. Bucky immediately conked out, muttering out a soft ‘thank you’. Steve was so _fond_.


	21. How dark does it really get? (Like the first day of school)

A few hours later, Steve roused to a soft knock on his bedroom door. Blearily, he sat up, forgetting that he was in bed with Bucky. This, of course, led to Bucky waking up with the most confused look on his face. Steve shifted, forgetting about the knock,  “How are you feeling right now? 1 to 10?”

“About a 5, I think. I can handle it.” Bucky winced as he, too, sat up, leaning on his elbow.

“Stark called me here to check on Mr Barnes’ head?” A soft voice spoke up from the door of their room.

“Oh! Yeah! Where should we do this?” Steve enquired while thanking the gods that finally the most reliable doctor was here.

“We can start here. Can you describe the pain? What triggers it? How long it normally lasts?” Cho was all business immediately. This was why Steve liked her. Reliable and knows what's priority. She stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, clicking her pen, ready to pen down whatever Bucky said.

Bucky held onto Steve’s hand (because he might be a grown ass man but he was still nervous about telling a stranger his problems. Showing your enemy your weak point was the worst thing one could ever do, and also showing your back to them, but that’s besides the point) and started answering the questions. It was a burn, like when you’ve run too much and your lung burns, but it also feels like a pulled muscle. Sometimes it starts low, then builds and builds. Sometimes it just comes full force. He doesn’t know which one is worse honestly. The trigger? A new memory. Like the one that triggered this recent brain hurt was the familiar taste of the food. He remembered thanksgiving and having all types of food but him and Steve still preferring to eat the pie because they made it and they were damn proud of it. It lasts about 6 hours most of the time.

The whole time, Cho just nodded and hummed, face blank, no judgments made. Bucky understood why Steve liked her.

“We could do a scan now, since it still hurts, right? Then another one tomorrow when it feels better again. For comparison.” Cho told Bucky kindly, a deep compassion in her eyes, not pity. Bucky really liked her now.

“Yea, sure. Just. Lemme get a drink first.” Talking about his problems always made his throat dry up.

Steve shot up and insisted on Bucky staying in bed. He hurried out and came back in with a cup of cool water. It tasted like heaven.

“I’ll get everything ready downstairs. Be down in around 10 minutes okay?” Cho advised as she stood up and moved towards the door.

Bucky gave her a nod and a tentative smile, accompanied by a small ‘thank you’.

 

10 minutes later, on the dot, both Bucky and Steve walked into the room, Steve with a hand wrapped around Bucky’s left elbow.

“Please have a seat here, Mr Barnes. And you, Steve, he’s not going anywhere it’s safe here. Don’t worry.” Cho said while trying to hide a small smile. She had never seen Steve act this way before. It was really cute, the both of them, how it was clear as day how in love they were with each other.

“Okay, this will take a few minutes,” Cho warned when the pair was settled down and the machine was in place.

“We’re done here today. Go take the rest of the day to relax, come back here at 9 tomorrow guys!” Cho shooed them out of the room, looking down at the scan, knowing that they both needed time to talk and to recuperate.

 

The next day, the pair arrived 15 minutes early, carrying a box of berries, gifting it to Cho.

“Oh, boys, thank you!” Cho blushed, surprised at this sudden act of kindness. Both boys smiled identical toothy smiles at her and it made her heart hurt a little. They didn’t deserve all the pain that they’ve gone through. But they're both here now, at the same time and age, and that definitely stands for something.  She had never seen a love story this beautiful.

They went through the same motions as yesterday, but this time,they weren’t shooed out when the scan was done. Cho put both scans next to each other, marking things up with a pencil, looking deep in thought. At least she didn’t look troubled, so nothing seriously wrong could be happening, right?

After a period of tense silence, Cho motioned for the both of them to stand beside her.

“Okay, see here?” She pointed to a darkened spot on the first scan, “And now, at the same exact place,” pointing to the second scan, “it’s gone.” There were several more instances of this, some dark sports were darker and some were lighter.

“So, since you said this was triggered by remembering old memories. I think, no im pretty sure, its your brain trying to heal itself back by connecting neurons. Basically when you learn something new, your brain forms new links. And with Hydra, the shocks were made to disturb these links, breaking them so it reverts to a new brain, with no memory or previous thought whatsoever. It hurts when you remember something because your brain is trying so damn hard to reform these already damaged links back together again. It’s a completely normal process, given our circumstances. There is little we can do as we do not know the exact links between neurons because we do not know the memory.”

Steve got a little mad after listening to what Cho said. What the fuck were doctors for if they couldn’t help? Bucky had to endure more episodes like this so that he could remember? Fuck! He was let out his frustrations at Cho but managed to calm himself down. Cho had helped them, shed new light on something they otherwise would have been clueless about.

“Can’t you just scan my brain and copy the links in mine on Bucky’s?” Steve thought it was a great idea, the best idea he had ever come up with.

“Steve, it doesn’t work like that. You both have different memories of the same events, no two people ever have the same exact memory because we are all not the same. Even if it made sense, I am not sure it could be executed. Tissue growth is easy because of stem cells. But neuro links? More electricity maybe. I doubt Mr Barnes would want that.” Cho was gentle in her execution, making sure she doesn’t trigger Steve’s temper back up while also educating him. Knowledge is the ultimate weapon.

“But don’t worry, i'll look into this with Stark and Banner. I’m sure we’ll come up with a viable answer.” Cho assured both of them.

Bucky hadn't spoken a word since she beckoned them over. She wondered if he was okay. She saw him tug on Steve’s hand, and Steve seemed to understand, nodding and made to excuse themselves. Yup, she'd never seen a love story like theirs.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back!!!! I'll be aiming to finish this fic soon! Maybe in the next few weeks, we'll see. :)


	22. How dark does it really get? (No dark all light)

The day after Bucky’s visit with Cho, he woke up to a half empty bed and the sound of soft humming from outside the bedroom.

He stretched his hand out and the bed was still slightly warm, indicating that Steve had only left a short while ago. He burrowed deeper into the covers, nuzzling the pillows with a small smile on his face. He had woken sporadically throughout the night, once at 9 (an hour after the both of them conked out, exhausted after Bucky had talked, _talked_ , about what he was feeling after visiting Cho), once at 9.30, the longest period was from 1 to 5. It was… Bucky didn’t know the time and really couldn’t be bothered to check it, knowing that he had enough sleep, now, finally, and that Steve was happy, outside, doing whatever he was doing.

Bucky shot up when he realized he’d forgotten what day it was. Was it Tuesday or Monday or Wednesday? A quick glance at his phone told him it was Tuesday. But. He needed to make sure he didn’t lose any days (he did, once, a few weeks after he had escaped. A self induced panic attack turning into a sort of brain coma as his body tried to protect itself. He lost 3 days.). He gave up jerk off Sunday to have a date with Steve, had the second brain scan on Monday. It was Tuesday. It was Tuesday. He had cashier work Tuesday nights.

Bucky winced as he stepped out of bed, body yearning to stay in the soft warm heat under the covers just a second more. He didn’t relent. Rubbing his eyes, he stepped out of the bedroom and looked left and right, deciding if he should go to the kitchen or to freshen up for the day. He chose the Steve route, as he always would. Because. He loved Steve. And he really really wanted to see Steve.

Steve was wearing silk boxers. Wow. _Wow_. His ass looked…. Really good. He was also swaying his hips and humming to himself, stirring something in the pot. Smelled like mushrooms. Oh. Bucky had forgotten that mushrooms existed. They were always in a different section from the vegetables anyway. (They were in the air conditioned area and Bucky hates the cold remember.)

Bucky wasn’t controlling his body when it creeped up behind Steve and leaned it’s head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed up, then relaxed, courtesy of the earthy smell Bucky carried with him wherever he goes.

“Jesus, Buck! I could’ve spilt this everywhere!” Steve lamented, but leaning his weight on Bucky all the same.

“Steve… you barely even moved.” Bucky deadpanned.

“Yea, but I could’ve!” Steve argued.

Bucky was so over this. Steve was a little shit. Bucky huffed as he walked away towards the bathroom, having had his morning dose of Steve.

“You better not be going back to bed! These mushrooms need you!”

“Shut up Steve. I’m going to brush my teeth.”

* * *

 

Breakfast was good. Steve did something magical with mushrooms and also sunny side up eggs! They were sitting opposite each other, quietly enjoying the meal Steve had cooked up and more often than not, sharing soft smiles and eye contact.

Their legs were touching under the table, ankle crossing ankle crossing ankle crossing ankle. It was wondrous. Bucky was happy. Steve was happy.

After breakfast, they migrated to the couch, watching people try to fit their lives into tiny houses. It made Bucky feel claustrophobic but Steve seemed to be enjoying it, so he just leaned against Steve and rested his check against Steve shoulders, where he belonged.

(The dirty dishes in the sink were calling out to him but doing dishes came second, maybe third or fourth, to cuddling with Steve. So Bucky stayed put and let it go.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think.... i think this might be the end of the fic guys! i might or might not be crying this is so surreal.
> 
> If you guys want more send me stuff at my [tumblr which i made just for this sole purpose](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gvldlining)
> 
> i might make this into a series if yall have anything else yall wanna see in this verse! (btwdoyouguysthinkthisendingmighthavebeenalittletooabrupt)


End file.
